


Sub Megatron

by Decepticrazy



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Master/Pet, Rough Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 18:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 45,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4636407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decepticrazy/pseuds/Decepticrazy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What the title says. Sub Megs getting a good hard fragging from various mechs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Starscream

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up thinking far too much about the glory that is sub Megatron. This happened. Feedback welcome.

Starscream had let slip his true desires one rare evening when the pair were overcharged, exulting in their recent victory over the Autobots and enjoying the vast stores of energon they had gathered.

The seeker had admitted he simply enjoyed having Megatron's attention to himself. He didn't want to offline the fragger. Not really... but maybe... let him call the shots once in a while? Megatron had scoffed at the notion, right up until Starscream had set those crimson orbs on him, playing over the big mech's frame with the gaze of a predator. "What about in the berth then...?" That sultry tone was enough to send a shiver down the big mech's backstrut but he laughed off the idea. Somehow, some way, he'd ended up agreeing to the seeker's proposal, if only to shut him up. It must have been the high grade. He'd let Starscream give the orders in the berth chamber and obey every one of them. What harm would it do? Megatorn would probably get a good laugh out it at at the seeker's expense when Starscream inevitably failed to perform. How very wrong the warlord was.

 

 

Bound, blindfolded, servos chained behind his back and a spreader bar forced between his thighs, Megatron wriggled. He resolved to keep his calm, counting backwards from 100 even as Starscream continued to taunt him. Those slender clawtips played about his frame, sliding like liquid silk over heated plating. They worked their way over neck cables, stroking deftly along the delicate surface, dipping in to touch hidden sensors that the warlord never knew existed. He let slip a moan as long, tapered claws found a sensitive node, teasing at it mercilessly and making the warbird arch and wriggle.

"Uh uh uh." Starscream tutted. "Didn't I order you to stay still? Do try to remember our arrangement Megatron. I give the orders here. You obey them. Understood?" 

The warlord supressed a growl, nodding minutely as his optic lids fluttered. Starscream was still toying with the sensor. The warbird vented heavily, feeling his spike twitch behind his panel. He was ashamed to admit how easily he'd gotten worked up from the simplest of touches. All Starscream had done since positioning him was stroke his plating. He'd not even touched anywhere near the warbird's heated array, commanding Megatron to keep his panels in place and not deigning to give the warbird any attention where he truly wanted it. Megatron felt his resolve slipping. Was he going to lose this game so easily? 

The warlord was thankful when those wicked claws finally receded, only to yelp at the sudden influx of sensory feedback when they slapped down on the inside of a thick thigh. "Ngh!" Frag. What was going on. That shouldn't have hurt that much. On Starscream's request he'd dialed up his sensitivity a fraction, in effect making his thick plating just as receptive as Starscream's thinner armour would be. Was this how responsive the seeker was? Megatron shook his helm, already feeling his willpower fading. There was no way he could endure this... not if his damned frame was going to be so fragging sensitive.

Starscream snickered, gleeful. He watched Megatron shift his hips to and fro a little, far more responsive than the seeker had imagined. Soon that same servo returned to masssage away the sting, Starscream purring in his lord's audial. "Did you perhaps enjoy that Megatron...?" He gave the tender plating a rough squeeze, smirking as Megatron gasped and thrust his hips forward on instinct. "Oh I think you are enjoying this..." Megatron only grunted something inditinguishable in response, gag preventing much more than whines and grunts leaving his intake. 

"What would you say I wonder... if I were to take this off, hm?" The seeker tapped lightly against Megatron's gag, drawing a groan from the hulking mech. Starscream only laughed in response. "Not yet my pet..." Megatron growled at the name, drawing another laugh from his seeker. "Don't like that do you? Well... too bad. You agreed to this mighty Megatron." The title was drawn out with a sneer, Starscream feeling his spark whirl in excitement as he traced over the warlord's jaw, strong and angular. He laid a kiss to the scarred metal, licking his lips in anticipation of things to come.

"Now... why don't we find out what else you enjoy?" 

Deft servos slid down the expanse of Megatron's frame, clawtips scraping ever so slightly, sending tingles through the warbird's sensornet and making the warbird shiver.

"Oh..? What's this now..." Starscream had noticed a particularly powerful shudder run through the wardird's frame when his talons grazed over chest vents. Experimentally, the seeker returned to the spot, claws teasing lightly at the area before curling and digging in to the vents viciously. 

Megatron howled in response, optics rolling back and frame shuddering, thighs tensing and hips wriggling. A thin dribble of lubricants pooled in the slim seams around Megatron's valve panel, glistening in the light. Starscream cooed appreciatively, moving one servo lower, gliding down over the warbird's abdomen, groping hips and aft. Megatron groaned through his gag and the seeker smiled. Soon his servo rested on Megatron's thigh once more, massaging at the same spot he'd roughly slapped before, leaning down to lap at the tender metal before delivernig another swat to the area. 

The warbird keened, instantly blushing at letting out such an embarassing noise. He turned his helm away, grumbling and groaning through the gag only to have his chin grasped roughly and pulled back to face Starscream. The blindfold slipped free, Starscream's heated gaze filling the warbird's vision. The seeker was hot, warmth radiating from his plating and setting the air between the two mechs alight with a buzz of energy. He licked his lips, leaning forward to lap at the warbird's own, glossa tracing over the gag before nibbling lightly at cracked dermas. 

Megatron groaned, trying to speak past the gag, glossa tonguing at it hopelessly. He wanted to kiss his seeker, wanted to claim him, frag him, take him! When he surged forwards in response Starscream lashed out, slapping the warlord across the face and standing at his full hieght once more. 

"Bad pet! Didn't I tell you not to move!" Starscream crossed his arms, sneering down at the 'lord' and delivering a swift kick the warlord's chassis that sent him sprawling backwards. 

Megatron could have held steady, could have simply tensed his cables and remained in place but Starscream's slap had shocked him into bewilderment. The seeker had managed to topple the great lord, Megatron grunting as he hit the ground. He glared up at Starscream, promising pain, promising punishment for this. Starscream laughed once more.

"Don't you look at me like that you disobedient little thing! I give you a simple order and you can't even obey that! Pathetic!" He slammed his pede down on the warbird's thigh, making Megatron's vocals hitch and the warbird thrash in his bindings. His charge hadn't died down at all however, only growing in a strange turn of events. When starscream's pede slid upwards, grinding against his panel Megatron groaned and writhed. He should be furious, Starscream deserving deactivation for his actions. But... all the little aches... all the cruel jabs... they sent his charge rocketing higher and higher. He was still blushing, cheeks burning now as Starscream all but stepped on his panel. He couldn't help it! He'd been teased and tormented. Any sort of attention to his array was going to ellicit a response frag it! Starscream however had his suspicions.

"You like that don't you... just look at you... filthy thing. This is where you belong Megatron. At my pedes, grovelling for a mere second of my attention." 

Heeled pede ground against the warbird's panel hard and Megatron keened in desperation, blinded by arousal and raising his hips in eager anticipation of more. What was he doing? This was beneath him frag it! All he could do was wriggle and whine in need now, charge burning in his array, spike throbbing behind his panel. He shoudln't be getting off on this. Definitely not! A deep, shuddering moan was ripped from the lord's vocaliser as Starscream's pede ground down harder however, Megatron turning his helm away and staring at the wall rather than Starscream's smug face. He'd lost. Already. Whatever resolve he had left crumbled and Megatron groaned, desperate to sink his spike into the beautiful seeker above him, turning to stare up at Starscream in desire. 

"Open your panels pet." 

Megatron sighed, thankful that he was given permission before he was forced to either disobey the seeker or plead to free his throbbing spike. Pedetip nudged at his spike's head and Megatron groaned in utter ecstasy, wriggling in his bonds, array on fire. It was beyond belief that he was enjoying this! But... the sight of Starscream above him, proud and beautiful... fierce. It sent a dark thrill down the warbird's struts. He'd always dreamed of throwing away all restraint and worshipping the seeker, so undeniably attractive, dangerous, enticing. Pedetip ground against the warbird's plump and lubricant soaked valve lips and Megatron keened, pressing his hips down, forcing himself against the pede and lapping up every wonderful bit of sensory feedback. He was so hot... so desperate. It was humiliating to realise he was needily grinding against the seeker's pede, humiliating but not enough to make him stop. 

Frag it all, Megatron wanted something... anything! Frag him! Stroke his spike! Something! The warbird had never experienced being denied like this. He had only ever took what he wanted, rarely indulging in foreplay or considering his partner's desires. This was... madenning. He wanted to overload! Wanted to spike Starscream now! The warbird loosed a growl as he wriggled in place, fighting against his bonds and glaring up at Starscream.

"Oh... is someone getting impatient? Very well... I'll indulge you." Starscream crouched down, producing somethign long and thick from subspace. It soon became all too clear what it is, the firm head pressed insistently to Megatron's leaking slit. "This will fill you up nicely..." 

Starscream licked his lips, thrilled with himself, thrilled with this idea! He'd already won, that much was clear. Now, Megatron laid back and took all he had to give. The power, the ecstasy of bringing his indomitable leader to his knees was enough to make Starscream's head spin. He spared a moment to inspect the thick, ribbed shaft he held in one servo, bringing it to his lips and smirking in delight. Glossa extended, lapping at the false spike enticingly. Starscream made a show of taking the whole length in, relaxing his intake and swallowing, pumping it in and out a few times before drawing the shaft free with a wet, obscene slurp. He grinned as Megatron groaned and threw his helm back, hips bucking lightly in need. The warbird was a truly pitiful like this... it was perfect.

Returning the well lubricated rod to Megatron's valve, the seeker lined it up, nudging the tip against Megatron's soaked valve lips and smirking as the warbird groaned, trying to wriggle his hips down, onto the girthy rod, eager for relief. Starcream set his servo on the thick length's base, pressing it in agonisingly slowly, inch by inch and making his ill tempered pet groan and thrash in need. "Shhh... be a good pet and I will reward you." 

Megatron shivered at that comment, all manner of thoughts, scenarios racing through his meta. Wouldn't it be nice to let go? To serve another? To worship them? The cause had taken so much from him, strained his processor and frame to the point of breaking time and again. When had he last given in? Let himself simply exist, free from responsibilities, free from the concerns of the war. It was utterly tempting to throw all restraint away and simply worship the beautiful seeker above him, beg for overload and forget every care he had. Megatron distantly wondered how he'd fallen so far so quickly. He'd all but crumbled under Starscream's touch, almost thankful to give in to the seeker, to obey.

Starscream noticed the glint in Megatron's optics, the twitch in his brows. "You're thinking too hard Megatron. Just enjoy it." An encouraging stroke was given to the warbird's thigh and Megatron hummed in pleasure, optics shuttering for a moment before they snapped open in shocked biss. Starscream had slammed the false spike teasing at his valve in hard, burying half the thick rod instantly and causing Megatron to keen and writhe. He panted hard, moaning, struggling, eventually looking up to the seeker and whining. Starscream took the hint, mercifully leaning forward to remove the gag. 

"Uhn... th-than-ahhh!" The spike was pulled out only to slam down hard again, plunging in and out of the warbird's slick valve and filling the air with wet, sloppy noises that made the warrior's audials burn. 

"Mm... does that feel good pet?" Starscream goaded his leader, smirking and by now stroking his own spike, intensely aroused at the sight of his leader, stretched wide around a false spike. "Oh.. you look so good... so fragging hot..." 

Megatron moaned and tried to fight back the broken sob that threatened to escape his lips, failing miserably. Starscream knew exactly what buttons to push, shattering his restraint and making the warbird weak and helpless. He whined and groaned in arousal, bucking his hips lightly. "Uhnn... y-yeeeesss... mmhh-aah!" The seeker had slapped his thigh again, kneading hard at the same tender spot. It made Megatron clench around the toy needily, overload already threatening. "Ohhhh...uhhh... ffffrag!" Megatron could only writhe and moan, utterly undone.

Starscream reached out to tease the little bead atop Megatron's slit, drawing a hitching cry from his 'master.' "Mmm... Megatron..." The seeker couldn't stop himself from leaning down, lapping at the warbird's stretched and soaked folds as he forced the false spike filling Megatron a little deeper. "Such a filthy mech... so desperate for spike." Spare servo toyed with the bigger mech's aft, kneading and stroking at the warrior's ripe and enticing curves. "Do you know... how much I fragging love your aft?" With that the flyer let a single clawtip tease at the warlord's port, massaging the tight little rim and snickering as Megatron pulled away.

"No..not there." Megatron's own words sounded weak, desperate.

"Hm...? But pet... you don't have the choice... remember... relax... you'll enjoy it." Starscream tried to put Megatron at ease, leaning down and kissing at the big mech's abdomen, glossa laving over vents and sensors as he continued to pump the false spike in and out of the warlord's valve. 

Megatron groaned and let his frame grow lax. Even if he wanted to move, he could not. The restraints were sound. There was no escaping. He was bound to Starscream's will, the thought dizzyingly arousing. A wanton moan slipped from his lips the next time that clawtip pressed against his port. It was wrong... it was strange... still... Megatron found the touch exciting, arousing. Soon he was gasping and moaning, that single talon having worked its way in just the slightest bit. It felt strange yet... good, Megatron thrusting his hips forward as Starscream continued to fuck him roughly with the toy. Soon all reservations left him, all restraint slipping away. Megatron moaned wantonly, arching his hips and letting his thighs go lax, wriggling in silent invitation. He wondered what Starscream's spike felt like, charge scorching hot at the thought, cooling fans whirring as they struggled to expel excess heat.

Starscream continued to work the warlord's port, feeling the tight opening loosen a little around him. Soon he slipped another finger into the hole, working twin talons in and out, stretching Megatron and humming in pleasure at the sight of his stuffed and wanton 'lord.' Leaning down, Starscream ramped up his attentions to the warbird's array, snaking his glossa out to lap at the tip of the warbird's spike, jamming the thick spike between Megatron's thighs in deeply as he teased the warbird's thick, enticing cock. He had to hold himself back from simply mounting the warrior, that ridged and satisfying cock looking far too delectable. Instead the seeker distracted himself by working the warlord's port wider, stretching it further. He was soon fucking each hole hard, Megatron howling in bliss beneath him.

"Uhhh! Star-Starscream! Frrraggg! This-this is!" Megatron could only groan and sob needily, arching his hips, faceplates flushed and thighs coated in his own lubricants. He stared up at his seeker in pure desire. "Enough! I need-" At Starscream's lecherous smirk, the warbird quieted. He didn't want to admit it, could scarcely admit he was enjoying this let alone beg for more.

"Hm? What was that pet?" Megatron glared up at him and Starscream couldn't help but smirk."Did you want something?" He drew the false spike out and forced it back in, torturously slow, all the while fingering Megatron's port, stuffing a third digit in and cooing at the sight of Megatron stretched wide. "You look delightful like this... I'm tempted to keep you this way. Perhaps I could hide you away in here... tell the others you've gone missing and keep you all to myself. Soundwave would find out soon enough but by then... I could use you up... leave you to be discovered... covered in my fluids, stretched and stuffed full and fucked into oblivion. Would you like that...?" Starscream purred in the big mech's audial, watching the way Megatron shivered underneath him, his frame speaking for him. 

"Mm... I think you're just about ready Megatron." The warrior stared back at Starscream in a daze, mouth open and panting, optics dark and glazed over. He twitched his hips, spike bobbing up and down needily. 

"Wha..? What do you..." Megatron soon found out as Starscream snaked his way in between the warlord's thighs, spreader bar behind him and the seeker fitting neatly between the warrior's spread legs. A blunt, hard object pressed against his port and Megatron's vocals hitched in shock. "No! No it's not..." A stern glare from the seeker and a slap to his spike had Megatron groaning and writhing in need. "uhnn..." He stared blindly up, falling to his own desires, frame going lax and helm slumping back to the floor. 

"Mm... better. Be a good pet for me and stay quiet." With that the seeker nudged his hips forward, watching Megatron gasp and vent a shaky breath as the tip of his spike speared the warrior's port. He gave Megatron a moment to adjust, soon bucking in light, shallow motions, edging a little more of his spike into the warbird's port with each motion. 

Megatron shuttered his optics and moaned, thighs tensing and valve clamping down around the thick spike stuffing his valve. Clawtips thumbed at his spike and Megatron let slip a broken sob, suddenly desperate, willing, eager. He bucked his hips, tempting Starscream to fill him, fuck him, break him.

Starscream continued to work the warlord's taut rim, burying more and more of his tapered length into Megatron's tight heat. "Uhn... Megatron... so good... so hot..." The seeker's wings fluttered in delight and he gave Megatron's spike a good rub as reward, brushing over the tip firmly, working the false spike filling Megatron in deeply and finally activating the magnalocks on the toy. It would now stay firmly in place, keeping the warbird nice and full and allowing Starscream to enjoy his pet all the more. "So hot for me... nice and tight... uhn..." Soon he'd hilted himself in the warbird's heat, shivering at the tight squeeze on his spike and purring appreciately. "Mm... such a tight little slut."

Megatron stared up at his seeker, blinking away the dazed stupor that held him and mumbling a questioning slurr of words. It came out as utter jibberish, indecipherable. 

Starscream snickered, rolling his hips and drawing a long, low moan from his pet. "You like that...? Mmm... such a filthy thing... taking it in your port like a common whore." 

Megatron groaned and shifted, not voicing any words but wriggling around in place, venting heavily and moaning. "N-no... this was... your-"

Starscream slapped the warbird's spike viciously, drawing a yelp from his captive plaything. "My wish? Oh Megatron... you agreed to this... and besides... look how wet you are..." Clawtips ran through some of the fluids dripping from the warbird's valve, pressing them to Megatron's lips and ordering with a commanding glare. "Lick!"

Megatron felt all his deeply buried desires pouring forth, helpless to deny them. He'd dreamed of this. Countless times he'd dreamed of letting himself give in, letting the beautiful seeker have his way with him. Before he even realised it, his glossa shot out, laving over sharp claws and suckling eagerly. The warbird moaned around those digits, vocaliser rising up in pitch as the seeker rolled his hips again, fucking the warbird's port. That was it. There was no use denying it. No use holding back.

"Please..." 

Starscream was close. Just a little more nudging... cajoling... "Please what...? Tell me what you want pet..."

Megatron shivered and groaned at those words, forcing his lips to move, feeling a deep, dark shame that only set his charge higher as he finally forced the words out. "Frag me! Fuck me! Please!" 

Starscream laughed, inordinately pleased with himself, giving Megatron his reward with a firm thrust.

Megatron lifted his aft to meet the thrust, stretched and now eager, desperate. It was so delectably depraved, so hot, so good. He could feel Starcream inside him, stretching him, filling him, claiming him. The words fell unbidden from Megatron's lips as he let himself give in. "Master... please.. frag me. Use me. Please..." 

Starscream could hardly deny his pet, taking up a firmer, harder pace, pounding into his former master's eager little port and moaning at the sweet, blissful hug to his sensors. It felt divine, Starscream's ego swimming in delight, his spike hot and on fire as it pumped into Megatron's naughty little hole. "Frrrag... such a tight little slut! That's it... beg! Beg to have your filthy little hole stuffed full and used! I'm going to fill you up and-auuhh! Leave- leave you dripping and aching!" 

At that the warbird keened, pushing back into each of Starscream's thrusts, the rough pounding setting his sensors ablaze, the filthy words only making him more aroused, more desperate. He wished he could move, could touch. Those beautiful wings, that lithe frame. His valve tightened around the false spike buried within it, calipers clamping down, sensors pulsing and feeding more and more pleasure back through the warlord's sensornet. His intake slack, hips mindlessly rising to meet Starscream's thrusts, it wasn't long before the warrior overloaded, calipers tightening around the firm shaft in his valve, pressing the tip against his cieling node and tugging a broken moan from the warlord's vocaliser. Likewise, the sensors in his port built and built in charge until they finally lit with overload, tight rim clamping down, squeezing Starscream until the seeker overloaded deep in the warbird's port. Thick fluids spurted inside him and Megatron groaned at the obscene, delectable thrill, pushing his aft back to feel more of Starscream stretching him wide. A second overload, so powerful if forced his optics offline crashed through his sensornet and Megatron keened in utter ecstasy. He felt Starscream's hot release deep within him, valve stretched and tight, port sore and used. His own spike had spattered his release all over his chassis, staining his chestplates and face. 

Starscream had barely managed to hold himself steady, his master so tight and hot around him, so utterly depraved in his eagerness. His optics whited out as he spilled his load deep within Megatron's port, groaning and raking clawtips down the warbird's thigh, feeling Megatron tighten and sob all the more loudly at the pain, clenching so hard around him that it hurt. Starscream wailed through his overload, plunging into the warbird time and again and he was finally spent.

 

 

The two mechs lay in a panting heap afterwards, both utterly satiated, enjoying the lingering glow of post overload bliss. Eventually the seeker extracted himself from his lord, sticky fluids freed from the warbird's gaping port as Starscream cooed at the sight. Megatron on the other hand whined in discomfort, feeling filthy, used and wrong on so many levels. But... it had felt so good... He stared blindly up at the cieling, breathing a heavy vent of relief when Starscream freed his struts from the uncomfortable spreader bar.

Megatron waited for the seeker to deal with his other restraints, surprised when Starscream merely wriggled his way towards him instead, throwing an arm over the warbird and snuggling up against his filthy chestplates. 

Eventually the shock wore off, Megatron eager to be free of his restraints. "Starscream." The seeker grumbled in annoyance, Megatron raising his voice this time. "Starscream! Release me!" He glared down at the seeker, Starscream sending back an equally vicious look before stuffing the gag back into the warbird's intake and smirking. 

"Quiet down pet... Master needs to rest." 

Megatron growled, howled and thrashed, succeeding only in earning himself a slap from the flyer. Finally giving in, Megatron grumbled and turned on his side, finding a more comfrotable position. He pressed against the seeker's warmth, nuzzling at Starscream's plating before falling to recharge, frame and mind exhausted yet more satisfied than they'd been in countless cycles.


	2. Soundwave

For the next few days Megatron avoided being anywhere near Starscream, only interacting with the seeker insofar as he needed to. He issued commands and tried not to react every time Starscream responded with his distinctive and almost indecently purred response, rasping Megatron's name in less than subtle temptation. It was maddening but Megatron refused to let the seeker think that their recent romp had meant anything. That he needed the flyer on any level. Primus knew the seeker had already grown more petulant, more smug and frustrating to deal with. If Megatron let slip how much each feather light touch, each lingering glance affected him he would crumble completely. There was no way he would let that happen, losing face was not an option here. He had an army to command and Starscream spreading rumours of the lord's weakness would be unthinkable. The seeker would only spin Megatron's desires as a weakness to be exploited or openly mocked. So Megatron kept to himself, ignoring the tempting flyer that always seemed to hover so very closely that he could feel the subtle vibrations from the jet's engines.

 

 

One such cycle Megatron had found himself inordinately frustrated, suddenly snapping at the jet to leave his sight. Starscream responded with a snippy jab and amazingly enough retreated, probably to gripe about his leader behind closed doors. Megatron let out a heavy sigh as soon as the flyer left, his helm sinking, pinching his nasal ridge and sinking into his throne. The drones, seeing how short tempered their master was at current, wisely relocated, finishing up their data entry and relocating to terminals that were not in close proximity to a very irritable and deadly warframe. 

Silence hung in the air, thick and heavy and welcoming. Megatron had almost forgotten the presence of one other, his most loyal and trusted, dedicated of underlings. 

Soundwave remained silent, continuing with his work until the others left and only then pausing to turn to his master, catching the telling sigh Megatron loosed and tilting his helm slightly in silent enquiry. After a short silence the slim mech rose to his pedes, shutting off his console and slowly approaching Megatron, soft clack of pedes announcing himself long before Soundwave was at Megatron's side. The mech moved until he stood before his lord, visor blinking and displaying an image of a question mark. Even in the presence of his lord alone, Soundwave's vow of silence never wavered. 

Megatron only grumbled in response. In truth ever since his encounter with Starscream he'd been riled up like nothing else before, self servicing whenever he had the chance, several times a cycle but even then he could find no relief. It was maddening, frustrating. He'd tried to ignore it but it seemed it was no use. Megatron would simply have to continue dealing with the charge as best he could. Maybe if he could replicate the experience with Starscream... conjure up some memory references and audio files he could achieve some sort of relief. 

The warbird had been ignoring Soundave, that was until the silent mech reached out and tentatively touched his lord's frame, slim digits setting down on a broad shoulder. He was concerned, worried even. What had his lord so irritable? So distracted that not only had he hugely overreacted to Starscream's usual venom, but been performing dismally in battle. The last time Soundwave had seen his lord in battle, Megatron seemed to back down from any close contact with the Prime, backpedalling every chance he got and looking around himself in a wary, almost paranoid manner. Something needed to be done before his lord fell to the Prime in battle, too distracted to properly defend himself let alone defeat the truckformer.

Never had Soundwave questioned his vow as deeply as in this moment. He needed to speak with his lord, to discover what problems had led to this strange behaviour but he knew not how to voice those thoughts... Soundwave decided to simply give Megatron some more time. Megatron would either spill what thoughts had overrun his mind or remain silent. He had no right to question his lord, nor pry secrets from him. Soundwave bowed his helm respectfully in recognition of this fact, bright glowing question mark dimming as his visor cleared.

 

 

Megatron tried to simply ignore the telepath kneeling before him. The silence that had just moments ago filled him with relief soon became uneasy, riddled with tension. Eventually it grew to the point where Megatron found himself unable to endure it, his TIC's questioning drawing the lord into fidgeting in irritation, huffing noisily and finally blurting out an answer.

"It's- it's nothing Soundwave. I have been distracted, careless. The Prime won't know what will hit him next time!" Megatron gave a menacing growl, the sound dying on his lips as he felt the hollow words echoe in his processor. Was that true? Was he ready to go back into battle like this? Megatron wilted, wiping at his faceplates and grumbling. No. No something had to be done. The warlord focused on guarding his thoughts even more closely than usual, blocking the telepath out from sensing all but the most basic emotions from his lord.

Finally Megatron looked up to his SIC, his loyal, stoic communications officer. It was most ironic that such a title fell to a mech who never spoke, yet Soundwave was as apt a candidate as there had ever been. Never would he let the Decepitcon's secrets fall into Autobot hands. He was unparalled in his abilities, his dedication to the cause and Megatron. A strange little thought wormed its way into Megatron's processor at that notion. Soundwave would never mock him... never question him as Starscream would. Suddenly the warbird found it impossble to keep his gaze on the blue mech's visor, turning his helm and staring at the floor nearby. He hoped Soundwave hadn't noticed the subtle twitch that ran through his frame, the way his engine rumbled with a slightly lower, louder hum.

Eventually the warbird was forced to speak again, Soundwave patiently waiting, unmoving. He'd not reacted at all to the warlord's strange behaviour, simply kneeling respectfully, awaiting an order. Megatron's thoughts were a jumble of confusion and desire. He couldn't think. He was finding it progressively more difficult to speak as well, stumbling over his words, looking away every time his optics strayed and dwelled on the telepath's frame. Soon his traitorous thoughts had wandered to Soundwave's interface habits, his optics trailing over the mech's frame and lingering on his codpiece. Megatron wondered if the mech even interfaced. He never seemed to leave his console, rarely recharged. The warbird's thought were broken by a heavily modulated voice, a distorted and unrecognisable collection of sound files replayed in order to form a question.

"Does Mega-tron- wish to- make use- of." The disjointed stream of words was accompanied by a slow and languid motion, Soundwave parting his thighs ever so lightly as he knelt, running a servo over his array and tilting his helm in question. He was offering up his frame for his lord's use. Truly Soundwave's dedication knew no bounds. He would gladly give himself over for his lord and he would even enjoy it. It would be a rare moment of pleasure for the telepath and knowing he was pleasing his master was a truly satisfying thought to him.

Megatron reacted as if slapped, sputtering out uselessly and slamming his servos down on his throne's arms. "What! No- I..." He had been staring at the telepath's codpiece blatantly, too aroused and distracted to even notice. His mental barriers slipped for a moment and Megatron found himself radiating raw desire, spark alight and field glowing with heat. Now he'd done it. What was he to do now. His equipment heated at the suggestion of interface, cooling fans kicking on embarassingly easily and betraying the warlord's interest even as he tried dismally to deny it. Soundwave slipped his servo between his own thighs, cupping his panel and rubbing gently. Megatron groaned at the sight, feeling his spike twitch in its housing and his valve grow moist with warm lubricants. 

Groaning and shockingly thinking over the offer, Megatron eventually decided that things had gone on long enough. His... needs were getting in the way of his ability to crush helms, his ability to carry on fighting in the Decepticon name. Still... this was something Megatron had never considered. He respected Soundwave, relied upon his cousel at times. He'd sometimes wondered what it would be like interfacing with the silent mech on long nights when recharge escaped him but he thought on many things on those nights. Never had he thought the telepath would want this. "Soundwave... are you sure?" The warlord clung to his mental barriers, unwilling to let Soundwave see just how badly he wanted this, needed it. It was pitiful.

Soundwave seemed unperturbed by any of Megatron's innermost conflicts. Whether he picked up on any of the warbird's more intimate thoughts or not was never betrayed, the telepath simply nodding and rubbing at his panel with a little more pressure, a little more vigor. He was getting himself worked up, ready for the undoubtedly rough pounding he'd be treated to from his lord and master. Soundwave shivered at the thought, all too eager to feel his master's spike plunge inside of him, batter its way into tight and unyielding confines. Soundwave rarely, if ever interfaced and he had no doubts his lord's spike would be an impressive one. It would be a tight fit. The thought alone brought a pleasant warmth to the telepath's depths, Soundwave quivering in anticipation.

Megatron hummed in acceptance. "Very well then. Only if you wish it." Perhaps spiking Soundwave would relieve the need burning in his valve as well. Megatron let his panel slide back, proud and swelled member jutting out and standing to attention. He was hard already, eager and desperate for overload. 

Soundwave would have keened in desire if he hadn't locked down his vocaliser all those years ago. He stared in wonder instead, suddenly regretting the trademark visor that covered his features, wishing to wrap his lips around that thick, tempting spike. Biolights lit the underside of the impressive shaft, ridged plates overlapping and promising untold pleasure. The warlord's spike already dribbled with precum, hard and eager for attention. At a simple beckoning from his lord, Soundwave rose to his pedes, suddenly snatched from the air and hauled into the larger mech's lap. 

Megatron bit down on his TIC's neck cables, feeling Soundwave shiver and writhe beneath him, one servo darting out to grab the telepath's panels and rub harshly at them. He traced a clawtip over the silent mech's valve covering, tapping on it lightly. "This. Retract it." Scarcely a second passed as the silent mech did just that, cool air rushing over moist, bright purple folds and making the skinny mech arch. Without waiting, Megatron pressed a clawtip into that tempting heat, wriggling a talon into Soundwave's hot little slit and cooing at the tight, searing wetness. "My my Soundwave... seems I should have done this vorns ago... you're so wet already." 

The telepath in Megatron's arms shook lightly and wriggled, trying to coax his master's thick digits deeper into the heat between his thighs. He was granted his wish when twin digits plunged home mere moments later, sinkning in to the telepath and filling him with a blissful sense of reward and pleasure. He was elated to be able to serve this way, give his master something that, perhaps only he could provide. Even if the warframe interfaced with Starscream, the seeker would never give himself over so completely, so unreservedly as this. Soundwave arched his back and ground into that touch, letting his lord's desire wash over him in soothing, wonderful reward. 

Soundwave wriggled his hips back and forth, valve clenching hard, tight and hot around those thick digits. When Megatron's thumb brushed over his glowing, hard clit-mouse the poor mech wanted to scream. Overload crashed through him from that simple touch, Soundwave hopelessly overcharged, oversensitive and dripping in desire. He bucked and threw his helm back, sinking hips down on those wonderful digits as his valve rippled and flexed around delving clawtips. 

Megatron simply cooed appreciatively as the mech in his arms overloaded and fell strutless in his lap. Soundwave was extremely responsive, overloading from the barest contact and the briefest attentions. It prompted the warlord to wonder how many times he could make the silent mech overload for him, grin forming at the thought as Megatron wrapped his servos around slim hips. He lifted Soundwave easily, the limp mech positioned and slowly drawn down, suddenly thrashing and arching as Megatron's immense chord speared the tight little hole that still quivered and flexed needily. Megatron waited, giving his TIC a moment to adjust before lowering Soundwave further. 

The telepath writhed and shook, servos shaking, grasping for anything, something to hold onto. Soundwave reached behind him, frantically throwing his arms around the warlord's neck and hooking his legs under Megatron's own. He half held himself up, half rested against the immense mech's frame, trying to keep his body from tensing as he felt that huge member slowly stretch him wider and wider. Soundwave shook his helm back and forth madly, vocaliser pouring forth with hisses and static. Even with his vow he could not remain silent during this. That huge spike would tear him apart!

Megatron stopped again, Soundwave's field radiating shock for a moment as he realised his lord held no intentions of injuring him. Soundwave gratefully grasped his master's neck, taking a calming invent and nodding when he wished Megatron to continue. Instantly pleasure riddled pain rocked the telepath's systems as Megatron canted his hips, letting Soundwave's own weight bring him down further and further, his cock sinking in deeper, slow measure by measure. He wished he could see the telepath's valve, stretched and overfull. It would make for a delightful sight. Moving a servo to tease at the communication's officer's glowing node, Megatron finally buried the last fraction of his chord, sighing blissfully even as Soundwave shook and tensed, obviously in some amount of pain. 

The silver warbird rocked his hips, gasping at the tight, sensor reeling pleasure as Soundwave's sweet, hot depths clenched around him. It felt inordinately good, so tight he felt he could burst then and there simply from the wonderful pressure. Megatron groaned and started to move, rolling his hips backwards and forwards in subtle motions to get Soundwave used to mammoth cock now buried inside him. 

The telepath shook and quailed, sensory feedback so intense he felt he could almost offline rocking his systems. He was amazed that his valve hadn't torn, stinging a little but overwhelmed with searing pleasure the moment Megatron moved. He felt so perfectly full, rich pleasure and reward soaking his systems so wonderfully that Soundwave nearly overloaded again simply from the moan that Megatorn let out. It felt divine to please his master like this. Perfect and deeply satisfying. Soundwave bucked his hips a little, encouraging Megatron to move, to take what he wanted from him. The thought sent Soundwave's charge rocketing higher and soon the mech was grinding down on that huge cock all on his own.

Megatron gasped, gripping the arms of his throne tight enough that metal bent and screeched as it was wrenched out of shape. He thrust his hips up at Soundwave's sudden enthusiasm, spearing that wonderfully tight heat and driving deeply into the warrior's sweet depths. Soon Megatron was helpless to hold back, grasping the telepath's hips with both servos, shaking as he held Soundwave in place and rocking into that sweet, sopping wet heat. The TIC's valve soaked his thighs, arousal dripping from the mech, making his valve squelch with all manner of obscene noises as it was filled again and again, stretched wide and fragged. 

Soundwave trembled under his lord's ministrations, soon slamming his hips down, wordlessly begging for more, faster, harder. Megatron didn't disappoint, taking a hold of his hips and suddenly slamming him down. That huge cock buried itself so deeply, slammed against Soundwave's cieling node so hard that the telepath felt his valve spasm in delight, clenching and spiralling down, hugging Megatron's length with a tight grip. Delightfully ridged and textured cock slid almost all the way out, Soundwave wavering and nearly falling from his place if not for his lord's hold. He shook and felt the empty ache, far worse than the burn of being stretched and taken had been. This was unbearable. Desperate, needy, Soundwave wriggled and wrapped his arms tight around his master's neck, shaking and rolling is hips in silent pleading only to have his desires met a moment later as Megatron took hold of him and slammed his hips down onto that agonisingly huge chord.

The telepath could have wept, it felt so good, so perfect. His valve spasmed and clenched, Soundwave's whole frame tensing and shaking lightly as overload crashed through him, Soundwave bearing down on that thick spike desperately, feeling every ridge, every bump on that chord set his valve alight with blissful feedback. Then Megatron began to move. 

The warbird effortlessly lifted his TIC, grunting in thinly grasped restraint as he held back, tensed his jaw and fought his desire. He slammed Soundwave down onto his aching chord again and again, feeling the telepath flex and quiver around him, lubricants gushing from the tight heat and coating both of their frames as Soundwave thrashed and arched in his hold. The communications officer was so tight, so hot it soon became impossible to hold back, Megatron letting slip a primal roar as he thrust his hips up, forcing Soundwave down onto his straining chord and finally spilling his seed deep in that tight, rippling heat. Spark deep moans of pleasure poured from the warlord's lips as he rumbled his completion, canting his hips to feel Soundwave overload around him yet again, hot transfluids spurting against the telepath's valve walls, blunt cock grinding the fluids in to Soundwave's heated depths until Soundwave finally slumped in his arms. 

Megatron sat, panting and gasping for cool air, spike buried deeply in his communications officer. He felt a moment of relief before the charge in his valve pushed itself to the forefront of his priority list, demanding attention, demanding satisfaction. Frag it all... clawed servos found their way to the warbird's panel, Megatron gasping and writhing as he pawed at his own searing hot components. A soft click of metal retracting and he'd stuffed his clawtips into that aching, needy slit, lubricants pouring from the sopping wet hole the second his panel drew back. They coated his thighs, mingling with Soundwave's own fluids. Megatron ground his talons in as deeply as he could, gasping, optics rolling back as he fucked himself. Soundwave lay limply against his frame, warm, soaked valve still tight around his oversensitised cock. 

It was all Megatron could do to keep from whimpering and mewling like a sparkling as he finally fell to desire, rolling his hips and gasping as Soundwave's cum soaked valve massaged his spike, soft and aching, while he wedged twin clawtips into his aching valve, curling and rubbing, shuddering and throwing his helm back in pleasure. Megatron soon felt his arousal build again, his spike begin to pressurise once more. With Soundwave still offline, the warbird simply manuevered his willing TIC however he pleased, shifting himself, shifting Soundwave so that the pair were situated on the floor.

With no one in sight and a warm body to use, Megatron found whatever restraint he once had suddenly vanishing. He knelt before Soundwave, languidly rolling his hips into the limp form, transfluid bubbling from the overstuffed mech's valve as Megatron fucked him. The warbird held himself steady with one servo, the other forcing itself into his neglected valve, twin clawtips stretching the needy little hole, driving in deeper and deeper as Megatron arched and howled in bliss. Soon he'd all but abandoned Soundwave, stiff cock leaking another hot stream of fluids into the limp mech's slit, spare servo rubbing away feverishly at his anterior node. Megatron rubbed and rolled the little bead of pleasure, crying out as he worked another clawtip into his valve and forced his servo in deeply. Megatron came hard, valve clamping down as pleasure rippled through the warbird's body. He frantically rubbed and pinched at that wonderfully sensitive little bead, clit-mouse rubbed and teased until it ached as pleasure tore through Megatron's systems, lubricants dripping and pooling in a depraved little puddle beneath him, optic feed cutting out and blaring white static. The warbird's cock leaked a little dribble of cum, spilling into Soundwave's fluid soaked valve before Megatron slumped and let himself fall back to the floor, exhausted. 

 

 

Megatron must have fallen into recharge because he found himself waking not long after, a strange sensation coming from between his legs. "Wha..." Depiste his confusion the warbird moaned and rocked his hips, grinding against whatever that wonderful pleasure was. His thoughts were a disjointed scattering of desire and desperation, valve still aching, still begging for more and making Megatron almost want to weep from sheer desire. But then that pressure returned again and all Megatron felt was the urge to bear down, hips moving of their own accord and grinding against the hard thing that teased him. He was scarcely aware he spoke, to dizzied with arousal to notice. "Please..." The sound was small, desperate. 

Mercifully the pressure grew, grinding against him, making his valve quiver and heat. It felt wonderful but he felt so empty it ached, the need terrible and unforgiving. "Please... please..." Delirious with pleasure and desire, Megatron cried out when he was finally given relief, that warm, hard thing grinding against him suddenly pressing inside, working its way between slick valve walls and filling the warbird little by little. Megatron felt a relief, a pleasure so intense wash over him that he simply threw his arms over his helm and hid, vocals hitching with all the desire, all the need he'd held inside. Starscream had awakened something in him. Somethign he'd long ago shut out. Now it threatened to drive him mad. 

Bleary optics blinked and tried to focus, Megatron dazedly looking up, staring at the dark shape above him. "Sound..wave..?" The warbird rolled his hips again, arching, flexing, doing whatever he could to get the mech to move. He needed this. Needed it so badly it hurt. "Please..." 

The warbird's defences had fallen like a house of cards, disappearing before the lord's desire. As soon as Soundwave had onlined he had been buffetted by an overwhelming storm of emotions. The warlord was offline yet his field sang with need and desire. He'd looked down to the warbird's bare and leaking panel, taking it upon himself to tend to his master's needs. Now Soundwave looked down at his lord, thinking no less of him, merely pleased to be able to assist his master. 

Soundwave inched forward, sinking a little more of his tapered chord into Megatron's searing heat. The warbird was impossibly tight, clenching so hard around him it almost hurt. Soundwave vented some of the heat from his frame, cooling fans working overtime. He couldn't believe he was doing this but Megatron had begged for relief, not only with his words but with his field, need flaring brightly and desperately and what his lord needed Soundwave would provide. The silent mech rolled his hips forward, watching in fascination as it made his master gasp and tense. He pulled back and repeated the motion, sinking his chord in a little more deeply and Megatron moaned.

"Soundwave..." The warlord still stared up in wonder, finally letting his arms fall from his face, looking into that expressionless visor and shivering when the telepath plunged into him again. "Uhnn! Yes... Aughh... more... more more! Harder!" The warbird growled, tired of waiting, tired of restraining himself. He wanted to have the desire gone from his systems, wanted to be fragged until he could scarcely comprehend who he was. Then maybe his damnable frame would normalise.

The ever loyal TIC inwardly laughed. Even laying on his back his lord was just as demanding. Well, whatever Megatron desired. Soundwave leaned forward, spreading Megatron's thighs wide and pumping into him, slamming his spike home again and again and watching Megatron writhe underneath him. His long, ribbed spike slid into those soaking wet depths, parting valve lips and slipping inside again and again, Soundwave tilting his hips and trying to find that sweet spot that would send Megatron to the heights of bliss. Another few thrusts and he'd found it, slamming down hard and making Megatron scream beneath him. 

Megatron keened and shook, thrashing one moment and almost bawling the next. He was utterly undone, emotions flaring in his field he scarcely admitted he posessed. Vulnerability and fear, desire so intense he felt his spark would burst and a desperate, blinding need that made him wish this moment would last forever. "Uhhhn.... Soundwave... ye- yesss! Fraaag! Harder! Please! Please!" The warbird thrust his hips up to meet Soundwave's own, howling in ecstasy as overload finally, blissfully rocked his systems, valve clamping down hard around his TIC's chord and rippling, pulsing as his charge crescendoed and peaked before wave after wave of perfect pleasure came crashing down on his systems. Soundwave slammed into him again and again, fragging him ruthlessly, perfectly as Megatron moaned like a two credit whore, oral lubricants spilling from his lips and optics fluttering, spark whirling.

Calipers clamped down hard and Megatron thrust his frame against Soundwave's own almost as forcefully as the telepath, keening and arching, mind lost under the crashing waves of pleasure that seemed to never cease. Soundwave finally forced himself down hard, drawing a broken wail from his lord as he buried his chord deeply, cock pulsing and stiffening before spurting its release deep inside his master.

Soundwave gasped and struggled for cooling air, toppling over onto his master and counting the seconds before his lord came to his senses. Would Megatron react violently? The telepath didn't believe so. He'd only given Megatron what he wanted. Still, dread started to gnaw at the telepath, that is until his lord moved beneath him.

"Soundwave... more..." 

The silent mech was shocked. Megatron... wanted more? But... they'd been fragging for hours, some of which the telepath was not even online for. Looking to the desperate, addled form before him though, it was quite clear Megatron was far from done. Unfortunately with his spike spent and his own valve far too sore to make use of, that left only one option... one Soundwave was unsure Megatron would approve of. 

Tentacled appendages snaked out of the telepath's frame, chittering mechanically as they moved and winding their way towards the desperate mech laying nearby. They coiled their way around the warbird's thighs, parting them as Soundwave shuffled close to his master. He stared at the mess of stretched protomesh and lubricants before him in wonder. This wasn't just any mech's valve he was staring at. It was his lord's, his lord's soaked and cum stained slit, stretched and fragged... wet... Soundwave felt a pulse of desire that unfortunately his frame was too exhausted to act on so instead he simply knelt down, running his servos over the warbird's thighs and squeezing, clenching.

Megatron keened and gasped, arching his hips in need and babbling for Soundwave to get on with it. The telepath smiled under his visor, throwing away caution and sliding his servo towards that juicy looking valve, slipping fingers inside and pumping away. 

The warbird shuddered and moaned, thrusting into Soundwave's touch, groaning in pleasure and shouting for more, soon gasping as a tentacle wound its way closer, brushing against his thigh, teasing his valve lips. Megatron groaned and spread his legs in invitation, desperate to have anything filling him. The coiling length nudged at his slit, Soundwave's servo retreating to make way. Tendrils appeared from the tentacle's head, wriggling over Megatron's pouty valve lips and making the mech thrash in desperation. "Soundwave! Fragging do something before I-" 

Megatron was cut off, tentacled appendage suddenly slamming in, wriggling its way inside of him and plunging in deeply, grinding against sensitive valve walls and makign Megatron cry out in pleasured Shock. His optics cut to static again and the warlord groaned, bucking his hips wildly and thrashing as the tentacle started to move, pulling out and wriggling around the warrior's entrance only to slam back into it again. Megatron arched and staggered a cry, reaching out blindly before falling back to the ground, canting his hips up for more and soon releasing a garbled stream of pleasured cries. The tentacle pounded into him viciously, slamming into his cieling node hard and making the warbird shout his overload already. 

The second he came another tentacle nudged at his array, winding around the other and stretching the warlord's lips wide. Megatron cried out in panicked shock, still spreading his thighs as shaking servos reached out. Seconds later they were pinned down, held in place as Soundwave forced the second cable into his lord, stretching that sloppy, leaking slit wide and slamming twin tentacles home with enough pressure to make the warlord keen loudly. 

The telepath had been unsure about restraining his lord but Megatron seemed to respond to it. In fact his field seamed to beg for more, bled desire and need for something that he couldn't quite ask for. Finally understanding, the telepath decided to give Megatron precisely what he wanted. Another tentacle coiled out from his frame, snaking towards the once proud warrior now laying soaked and desperate at his pedes. Any further noises from the warlord were muffled as a tentacle wedged itself into his lord's intake, fucking Megatron's throat as the pair buried in his valve coiled and throbbed, pulsing and snaking around like a living entity.

Megatron finally broke down completely, optics pooling with tears, need building to a level he'd never admit to as he writhed and moaned around the cables now stuffing him full. The warbird sucked and licked at the chord stretching his lips wide whenever it drew out far enough to do so, gasping and groaning as his intake was stretched and used moments later, charge rocketing higher at the abuse. Megatron choked in shock around the chord when a third tentacle began nudging at his valve, rubbing at scorching hot valve lips and finally forcing its way past straining, aching rim. Megatron arched and moaned, shaking as he tried to relax his frame enough to accommodate the massive girth now stretching him, letting his thighs splay open obscenely as the third cable wriggled and writhed, finally forcing Megatorn that little bit wider and coiling inside of him with the others. The cables wrapped around each other, forming a massive ribbed shaft that slid slowly into Megatron's heat, driving the warbird mad with arousal.

Megatron bucked and screamed as he was filled beyond what he thought he could endure, spike aching and dribbling another trickle of cum from it's tip, valve overloading yet again and making the warbird groan and sob. He suckled on the cable stuffing his intake full, licking and lapping fondly, keening and wriggling as Soundwave pushed him to his limits. Three thick tentacles all writhed inside him, pressing against every sensor, filling him till he thought his plating would birst. Megatron's charge only rose higher and higher with each overload, another tentacle soon joining the others, this time targeting his spike however. Those wonderful little tendrils snaked out from the tip, wriggling over his spike's tip in an agonisingly pleasurable wash of feedback. Megatron sobbed and bucked, mind having all but left him now, only blind desire ruling his frame. The thin little wriggling tendrils teased at the slim slit on his spike, nudging at the head and lighting it with sensation, suddenly spiralling down and spearing the mech's chord, stuffing Megatron's spike full, sending a pleasure so intense through the warbird's frame that he felt his energon would boil in his fuel lines. He writhed and came hard, hidden sensors never before touched now burning with wonderful pleasure, spike stretched and filled, tentacle stuffing the warbird's intake wriggling further and further inside of him and making the mech sob in ache. The tentacles filling his valve suddenly began to pick up speed, grinding against his valve walls, slamming into him again and again. 

Megatron thought his mind would break, thought it impossible to ever function again after floating to these heights of bliss. He warbled Soundwave's designation around the tentacle fucking his throat, splaying his thighs wide and mewling in agonising bliss when his final overload finally hit him. Megatron came with enough force to blow a circuit, howling as he was ruthelssly fucked, stretched and filled again and again by three coiling, rippling tentacles all slamming into his cieling node again and again. The warbird's calipers clamped down, squeezing hard and sending a jolt of pleasure through his frame so fierce that he reached the heights of ecstasy, moaning and writhing, bucking against Soundwave, spike stuffed and valve ruined, finally falling offline in a messy heap.

Soundwave wordlessly retracted his tentacles moments later, wriggling them a little to free them from the warbird's twtiching, clutching valve. He was left with a fully pressurised chord once more, looking down and taking the length in hand, giving it a hard squeeze. Perhaps his lord deserved one last overload.... The telepath staggered over to his master, kneeling before the mech and slipping his chord into the sloppy, stretched hole that had overloaded countless times already. Soundwave heard a quiet groan from the mess of plating beneath him, rocking his hips and soon drawing a gasp from the Decepticon lord, indulging in a slow, languid fragging that had both mechs groaning in pleasure. Soon the telepath reached climax, pumping in and out of his lord lazily, spike dribbling transfluids as both mechs finally slumped, sated and exhausted. The pair dozed off where they lay,Soundwave eventually waking and attempting to coax Megatron to berth, snatched up and cuddled instead. The telepath's protests were weak at best, Soundwave soon relaxing against his lord's frame, perfectly content.


	3. Knockout and Breakdown

Megatron had been in an inordinately good mood for cycles after his 'meeting' with Soundwave. He trusted the telepath not to betray his weakness and the excess charge in his systems was finally dealt with. That is to say... for a short time at least. 

The warbird had started to wonder if he'd picked up some sort of virus. The heat began building in his frame the very next cycle, soon growing from a dull charge to a roaring flame. Despite his efforts at self servicing, Megatron craved more, growing short tempered and irritable once more, lashing out at his subordinates and offlining several vehicons in a fit of rage. 

At his wit's end, the warbird decided to simply check himself in with Knockout one cycle. He'd have the medic scan his frame for anomalies and purge any foreign coding that had wormed it's way into his meta. Such a basic virus scan was certainly well within Knockout's expertise and the warrior could have his frame seen to while he was there. Lately his joints had started to ache, stiff and unresponsive. There was probably all kinda of filthy earth matter wedged in them. How Megatron hated this planet.

The silver warrior lumbered towards his destination, honing in on the Nemesis' medbay and only thinking to send Knockout a ping once he nearly stood before the facility's doors. *Knockout. I have need of your skills. Prepare a medical berth at once. I will be with you presently*

Much to his surprise the warlord recieved a bizarre panicked response. *Just- one- one moment lord Megatron! I'm with a very stubborn patient.*

The warbird scoffed out loud. *See to his swift removal then. Need I remind you whom you serve?* There was a hint of anger in the lord's tone and it drove Knockout to send a harried string of apologies and excuses his way, all of which only served to annoy the impatient lord.

*Uh-I'm sorry lord Megatron but-I'm performing a very um...delicate procedure right now-I just need to finish before-* The mech's comm. line cut out the instant heavily armoured medbay doors split open and was replaced with a very vocal moan.

Megatron was greeted with the sight of his cherry red medic, apparently overloading, pressed up against Breakdown who, shamefully enough, was bound to a medical berth, gagged and laced in rope restraints. Megatron stared, wide optic'd and bewildered, jaw hanging open at the sight. The APC groaned and tried to buck, held firmly in place by the restraints as Knockout moaned and rolled his hips, burying himself in his partner's valve. 

The silver warlord stood, stupified for a full few seconds, unable to move even if he wanted to, spellbound by the obscene sight before him. When his cooling fans revved noisily to life the warrior almost shouted in shock, jolted from his mesmerised stare. The warbird hurried to stifle the noise, letting out a strange sort of breathless gurgle instead. The heat that had been building in his array suddenly ramped up to a scorching inferno, Megatron having to force his knees to stiffen before they simply gave out at the sight before him. 

The other two must have heard him as Knockout was now staring sheepishly at his lord, off kilter smile strained and awkward. When Megatron realised he stiffened visibly, suddenly lost for words and stuttering feebly. "I-will return later." 

Megatron almost ran from the room, retreating even quicker than his second in command was known for as he staggered from the room, venting heavily and forcing his frame to move despite how much his spark pounded and his equipment ached. The warbird was a shambling mess of overheated parts, clattering towards his own private chambers, his frame sluggish and slow, stiff and unwilling. It was almost as if it longed to return to the medbay.

Finally Megatron reached his destination, hiding himself in his private room and staggering towards his berth. It was shameful, it was behaviour beneath the Decepticon lord but... Megatron slumped into the comfortable berth and let his panels slide back with a hot hiss, immediately grasping his straining, stiff chord and sinking two talons into the searing heat between his thighs. 

The warbird's processor retreated, blocked out by the overwhelming need and desire making his systems overheat, his array scorch. He let himself imagine, let himself think it was him, not Breakdown, tied to that berth, blindfolded and restrained, fragged through one blissful overload after the next. The thought sent a shiver down his backstrut and Megatron buried pointed talons deeply in his valve, letting slip a shaky groan at the light stretch to his seldom used slit, the pressure against sensor node bundles sending waves of blissful feedback through his systems. 

Spare servo clutching his already leaking spike, the warlord gasped when he finally squeezed and stroked himself, imagining the pretty red racer stretched around his spike, moaning and wriggling, eager for more as Megatron bucked - no, tried to buck but was held back the way Breakdown was... forced to wait for Knockout to move, forced to have his own overload denied, dangled before him temptingly and held just out of reach. 

The warlord distantly heard the sounds of his own needy begging, uncaring of how weak, how pitiful it sounded. "Knockout... please..." Then the racer would move, bouncing up and down on Megatron's spike until the warbird screamed his relief. Megatron moaned shakily, squeezing and stroking his spike, pumping it fitfully and desperately as twin clawtips curled in his valve, stroking the warbird's slick walls and drawing a sudden and yearned for response.

Valve walls bore down, Megatron wailing as he forced clawtips into the squelching heat, fingering himself desperately and groaning at the wonderful sensation as overload crashed through him. He forced his hips to stay still, pumping his chord but refusing to budge as he imagined phantom restraints holding him in place. The thought drew an abjectly pitiful whine from Megatron's lips as his spike erupted at the shameful thoughts, spattering his own chassis in hot, sticky release. The warbird still worked his valve, groaning delightedly at the torrent of feedback, the intense and delightful buzz that each stroke to his quivering valve produced. Slamming his digits in deeply, Megatron's optics flickered and turned to static as he forced as much of his servo as he could into the depraved little opening between his legs, stuffing a third digit into himself and forcing calipers wide, grinding his knuckles into exterior sensors with enough force to bruise to tender mesh.

A second overload so potent that it made the warrior keen and finally move shot through Megatron the second he dared to touch the glowing, sensor rich bead atop his stretched valve. Hips shot up, forcing themselves against the filling servo that Megatron could only imagine was something more, something thick and satisfying spreading him wide and making him sing. Overload crashed through Megatron's frame and the lord whimpered his release, almost sobbing at the ache, so perfect yet so cruel, chanelling even more heat into the warrior's frame. 

Megatron collapsed into the berth, frame twitching, shivering. He pulled himself free from the wet, sticky mess between his thighs, not daring to touch himself, sensors still riled up, desperate for more. There was no end to it. The warbird groaned as he realised he'd done it again, worked himself up to a fevered pitch only to linger in burning need. Self servicing only served to make the charge burn all the more brightly, make the need all the more madenning. It seemed like some sort of cruel joke to Megatron. He knew plenty of mechs could get off from self-service alone so why couldn't he? Throwing an arm over his faceplates in exasperation, Megatron heaved a few cooling invents as he tried not to think about how much he wanted to return to the medbay right now.

 

 

 

 

Back in the medical bay, Knockout was still unfastening the many restraints binding Breakdown, muttering in wonder at his lord's response. "I thought he was going to blow a circuit..." The racer snickered at his own words. "Maybe he did though... he did run off awfully quickly." 

Knockout liked to be the centre of attention but truth be told, he was unnerved at being caught out by his lord. It wouldn't matter if Starscream or one of the others walked in on Breakdown and Knockout going at it, in fact the thrill of being discovered was something that drove Knockout wild. But... never had Knockout expected Megatron to suddenly appear. 

The warbird stoically endured injuries to the point of malfunction and deactivation. Knockout knew that the warrior was proud but... he considered it simply ridiculous to let injuries fester for so long. Those thoughts were what drove the medic to seek out his lord, despite his own hesitance to confront the volatile and frankly frightening warframe. The fact was however, that if Megatron had thought it necessary to come to him of his own volition then something must be very wrong with the Decepticon leader. Megatron clearly needed medical treatment and probably urgently. 

Bringing Breakdown with him for support (once the pair had cleaned themselves up of course), the racer crept towards Megatron's quarters, feeling like he was walking towards his own demise at the warframe's servos. He stopped before the warlord's door, gulping down a burst of fresh air and shifting to activate the intercom system.

"Uh... lord Megatron?" Knockout's voice came out as a fearful peep, growing in volume as no response was heard. "My lord? I'm sorry to disturb you but I feel it best to administer treatment immediately...Megatron?" There was no response. Knockout looked to Breakdown in confusion, the APC throwing his servos up defensively.

"Woah! Don't look at me." Knockout's flat expression of disapproval set the APC to staring at the floor, suddenly deeply fascinated by the dull metallic surface.

Sighing in exasperation, Knockout decided to simply confront his lord. He couldn't simply leave. What if Megatron was slowly dying for cybernecrosis behind that door? Megatron would kill him! Well... he'd kill him before he offlined anyway. The point is they'd both be dead, and more importantly, Knockout would be dead. Gritting his dentals, the racer reched out to activate the door, surprised to find it wasn't even locked.

 

 

 

 

Knockout stared for a good long time, Breakdown finally lumbering in beside him and murmuring questioningly, soon turning stock still and silent beside his partner. The sight of Megatron, overheated and coated in his own fluids made both mechs extremely uncomfortable, mostly because they expected it was something that was never intended for their optics. Eventually Breakdown spoke up, whispering frantically and lightly shaking his partner in an urgent plea. "What... uh... Doc. Doc! We gotta go! Quick, before-"

The sullied mess of a mech laying atop his berth nearby grumbled something and moved, prompting both voyeurs to still, freezing in place and not daring to move should the slightest noise break the spell that had miraculously, kept Megatron in recharge and kept both of them alive for this long without being shot on site. Knockout almost screamed in horror when he heard Megatron speak.

"Knockout..." The warlord's voice was groggy with recharge, soon sharpening to a knife's edge in threat. "Do you make a habit of creeping into mech's rooms and watching their private acts, mechs whom... need I remind you again... you are sworn to serve and obey!" By now the warbird was fuming, wiping himself off with a cloth hastily and hauling himself up into a sitting position. The world spun a little as his sensors continued to boot, slow to respond after being knocked offline from a string of overloads.

"N-No Lord Megatron!" The medic held his servos up placatingly, pleadingly. "I only wanted to check on you! You-you needed medical attention!" Knockout's smiled nervously, horror lingering behind the paper thin facade of calm composure.

Megatron hummed at that, thoughts unwantedly turning to the imagined murmurings of the cruel and demanding medic that had filled his thoughts some short time ago. Humiliatingly, the warbird's engine gave a rev at the thought, Megatron shocked from his furious tirade by his own frame's traitorous response. 

Exasperated, the warlord threw a servo over his faceplates, rubbing away and trying to vanquish the lingering charge, the desirous thoughts now filling his mind. He suddenly didn't feel capable of lashing out at the frightened medic before him, thoughts too focused on other wishes, desires that would forever go unmet. Megatron heaved an exasperated exvent and simply bid Knockout leave him, losing the will to punish the medic amidst his own turmoils. "You are dismissed. I will see you at another time for repairs. Go." Megatron sounded almost despondant.

Normally Knockout would have hurried to obey but this... this was strange and somewhat concerning behaviour from his lord. So Knockout stayed where he was, servos twitching and fiddling in nervousness before he spoke. "If you wish my lord... but... are you certain you do not require my assistance...?" Knockout continued after a short pause, making sure to drawl his words out in an enticing manner there was no way Megatron could miss. "Medical... or... otherwise..." It was impossible to mistake the needyness in Megatron's frame, ozone filling the air, the tangy smell of lubricants hot and heavy, culminating into a potent scent of everything Megatron. It was quite enticing and despite his fears of the powerful mech, Knockout found himself intrigued at the prospect of interfacing with his lord.

Megatron remained silent, not betraying the sudden thrill that gripped his spark, the heat that assaulted his systems. Frag... his frame wanted it. Wanted it badly enough that it was driving him mad. Megatron felt the heat building in his frame continue to bloom, growing alarmingly high and heading towards dangerous levels. The warbird's decision was made when his optics trailed over Breakdown's form. He'd never looked at the bulky mech with any interest before but... Breakdown had to have a substantial spike. Megatron's valve quivered and clenched, aching in its need as the warbird struggled to keep his voice level. "I... do require assistance." The warbird found himself unable to vocalise more than that. He wanted to order the pair of mechs over to force overload from him but... the warbird was embarassed. This was humiliating. At this rate he was going to end up letting every one of his Decepticons have a turn with him. In contrast to the warlord's wilted pride, his spike throbbed at the thought, valve clenching and dripping lubricants. 

Knockout blinked in surprise, having in no way expected Megatron to agree. "Oh. Well uh..." The racer turned towards Breakdown. "Breakdown, why don't you give him a nice backrub first hm?" 

Breakdown looked at his partner pitifully, pointing to himself and silently asking. 'Me? Why me?' 

Knockout could only smirk, holding in the laughter at the adorable sight. Breakdown was endearingly cute at times, especially when Knockout bossed him around. The APC loved it though, as if today's session wasn't proof enough of that. "Go on." The racer slapped his mate's aft, prompting Breakdown to finally move forwards.

The stocky mech crept towards Megatron, his whole frame slumped submissively, cables and plating tight, defensive. All of Breakdown's behaviour screamed 'harmless,' an image that normally made Knockout smile in delight. The doctor said it was cute. 

Finally getting close enough to his lord to touch, Breakdown murmured in an almost pleading tone. "Lord Megatron sir? I'll be careful, I swear." Servos hovered close to the warbird, Breakdown shrinking down when Megatron turned to regard him.

The warbird could have laughed at the sight before him, finding it a little inappropriate for the moment however and holding back. Instead, a twitch of a smile lit on those cracked lips, Megatron nodding minutely and uttering his permission. "Proceed."

Breakdown finally freed the invent he'd been holding in, relieved that he wasn't going to be violently deactivated for daring to offer his lord a backrub. The smaller mech hopped up onto the medical berth, tentatively reaching out and rubbing small circles over his lord's shoulder plating. Breakdown's face was set in grim resolve. He was determined not to screw this up, for his own sake if nothing else.

Eventually Breakdown felt his lord relax a tiny measure, cables loosening a fraction, a soft sigh coaxed from the warbird's lips. Encouraged, Breakdown started to use firmer strokes, rub wider circles. Soon Megatron was rhythmically venting, relaxing under the APC's skilled touch. Breakdown was quite proud of his abilities, delighted every time he heard Knockout praise his servos. He found it relaxing to tend to his partner's frame, massaging and polishing Knockout until the medic radiated pure contentment and transformed into a pleased, strutless puddle. Breakdown would only stop when his mate was drifting into recharge, sinking down onto the berth and pulling the sportscar flush against his frame, cuddling the limp racer until they both drifted off into recharge. 

Breakdown let his thoughts wander to that soothing place, that moment of complete peace for both mechs as he worked Megatron's frame into a similar state, soon coaxing the big mech into laying down on his belly, sitting beside Megatron as he worked the countless years of tension from the warrior's frame. 

Eventually the warbird began to hum contentedly, clearly enjoying the attention. He let his thoughts wander, shuttering his optics and finding himself thinking mostly of Starscream. The jet was frustrating, yes. But... he was also undeniably beautiful, bold and, Megatron shivered at the thought, utterly dominating in the berth. Memories of being bound and used came flooding back and the warbird struggled to keep his vocaliser in check. He thought of Starscream commanding him, using him, punishing him as Breakdown coaxed his frame to relax, soft moans suddenly gaining volume as the warlord's imagination conjured up an endless stream of imagery. He'd not been bold enough to seek the flyer out again but... Megatron felt compelled to do so now. The thought of those wicked claws.... that raspy tone commanding him. Megatron blinked in shock when he heard his own vocaliser uttering the designation. "...Starscream..."

Breakdown, to his credit, didn't bat an optic lid, surprised but focused on his work. Knockout on the other hand... the racer took a seat in Megatron's sparsely decorated chambers, quietly contacting the screechy seeker. He wanted to know if his suspicions were true, putting on his most civil and placating act in order to gather what information he wanted.

 

 

 

 

Starscream was a veritable wealth of information. He tried to deny his relationship with Megatron but after a few cajoling words, Knockout had the seeker spilling every debauched little thing he'd done to Megatron, the way he craved being lorded over, being used and commanded. Starscream was inordinately smug about the whole affair, probably preening and strutting about his chambers as he went over all the sultry little details with Knockout.

By the time Breakdown had worked Megatron into a limp, happy mass of loose cables and plating, Knockout had a very firm grasp over just what would make his lord tick. He sidled up to the berth, leaning over the warlord as he whispered in a sultry tone. "Lord Megatron... Breakdown is good with his servos isn't he...?" The warbird mumbled something that sounded like a pleased agreement. Knockout smirked. "You know... his glossa is just as skilled." Knockout let the suggestive hint settle in the warbird's mind, waiting for Megatron to ask rather than force anything the warrior didn't desire.

Breakdown seemed delighted at the suggestion, licking his lips eagerly. Firm touches strayed lower, the APC moving to gently knead at Megatron's lower regions, massaging hips and thighs and thankfully, garnering no resistance or disapproval from the mech beneath him. In fact, he could swear he felt Megatron pushing in to his touch, silently willing him to keep going. 

Knockout watched with interest. "Lord Megatron... do speak up if you object to anything but I take it you are not against Breakdown using his glossa?" The medic caught a nod of the warbird's helm, pleased to see Megatron relaxing and enjoying himself. "Well then... Breakdown?"

The APC had to hold himself back from launching himself at the warrior's valve. That hot little slit had been glistening invitingly the whole time Breakdown had been working the tension out of his master's frame. Now... now he got to taste it. The thrill was so potent that Breakdown wavered a fraction, steadying himself on the berth. He gingerly parted Megatron's thighs, touching and stroking the larger mech soothingly before leaning down to kiss at the warrior's thighs. Huge, powerful struts were curved delightfully, deep purple hues beneath the warbird's outer plating surprisingly tender and receptive to the touch. Megatron squirmed when the APC mouthed at the top of his thigh, lips pressing against ripe curves and slowly trailing towards their target. A little bead of lubricant dribbled from the warlord's valve and Breakdown groaned aloud at the sight. 

Finally, the APC found the courage to lap at the outer folds of Megatron's plump valve, relishing the stuttered moan it drew from the mech. Fat, hot glossa wriggled and lapped at the heated folds, laving over sensor pips and pressing itself in to the hot gap, wriggling and lashing against outer sensors delightfully. 

Megatron groaned, forcing his thighs wide and straining at the angle. Everything felt divine, perfect, yet... more. More, he needed more. Struggling to force himself down and not getting what pleasure he wanted, the warbird pulled himself up and turned over, positioning himself on his back and slowly, torturously spreading his thighs wide in silent invitation. His cheeks blushed with a deep blue and Megatron covered his optics with his forearm, not daring to look. It was humiliating enough for him, falling to his desires like this. He didn't need to look at Knockout's mocking optics as well.

Breakdown moaned quietly at the sultry sight of his lord, hot and needy for him, spread and wet. The APC didn't waste any time, sinking down to lap and lick at his lord's tender little slit, swiping that broad glossa up the expanse of Megatron's heated valve and flicking the sensor rich little node nestled atop it with the tip of his glossa. 

Megatron arced and gasped breathlessly on the berth, clawtips clenching and liquid heat pooling in his array. He'd never tried this before, never had a mech show him this sort of pleasure. Megatron's sensors reeled with how potent the feedback was, how hot and soft and perfect that glossa felt against him. It made his valve clench and ache needily and Megatron found himself working his hips, grinding down against Breakdown's face needily and moaning wantonly. 

The warbird's optics snapped open and he threw his servos down onto the berth, clenching feverishly at the metallic structure with a force strong enough to warp the outer edge. Breakdown had just wriggled his glossa between plump and heated valve lips, hot, snaking appendage feeling like liquid pleasure as it swirled in the warbird's soaked slit. Megatron shook as a breathless cry was torn from his lips, optics mostly shuttered, a deep haze of arousal darkening the normally bright orbs to a dark crimson colour. 

When the warbird looked up, his spark shuddered fearfully in his chest. Knockout was there, watching, no doubt mocking the warrior, the shameless noises, the wanton desire. Megatron's faceplates contorted in pain at the thought and he turned away. 

Knockout watched all this in confusion, suddenly concerned that there was some issue here bothering Megatron, the warrior too proud to voice it. "Breakdown. Stop for a moment." 

The APC drew back with a very vocal huff of disappointment, clearly having been enjoying himself. He still stared at the warbird's fat, enticing folds, wanting to simply bury himself in Megatron's warmth and bring the mech nothing but pleasure. 

Megatron echoed Breakdown's sentiments, looking up at Knockout in confusion. Why had it stopped? The racer looked at him with a stern disapproval, Megatron shockingly enough, cringing under that glare. Had he done something wrong? The warlord opened his lips as if to ask, unable to find the words and simply staring dumbly. 

Knockout tutted, having figured out the reason why Megatron never allowed himself this pleasure before was that he was ashamed of it. "Really Megatron... there is simply no need to view this as anything other than a healthy expression of emotion and desire amongst willing participants."

The warbird's dazed meta scrabbled to make sense of those words, Megatron staring helplessly in confusion. Knockout... didn't think less of him for this?

The medic sighed, rubbing his nasal ridge in frustration. "What I'm saying is... we... Breakdown and I... we don't care why or for what reasons, as long as you want this. Alright? There's no sense in neglecting the equipment Primus gave us." A sudden twinge of sympathy brushed over the medic's ET field, mingling with a reassurance and the potent lust that had been radiating from the racer since he first discovered Megatron's state. 

Megatron was baffled. He'd never expected the medic to be so... understanding. Knockout's field radiated nothing but positive emotions, desire and calm. It was strange, uncomfortable, but also reassuring. The longer it stayed like this though, the more awkward things became, Megatron spread open and glistening as he was, getting lectured by his subordinate while Breakdown kneeled between his legs. The warbird just wanted the pleasure to return, charge still burning deep in his frame. Knockout was not satisfied however, turning an unimpressed stare on the warbird. 

"I want you to be honest, Megatron. Tell us what you want. There's no shame in it. Pit, you've seen what we get up to." The medic grinned, memory drifting back to the feel of Breakdown quivering around his length. "Mmmh... anyway. A safety word. Pick one. Then we will move on." When Megatron continued to stare at him helplessly, the racer let slip an irritated sigh, going so far as to roll his optics. "It's for if you want us to stop. It's common practice my liege, I promise."

Megatron blinked, dumbfounded by this sudden wealth of information. His processor slowly ticked over, absorbing what Knockout had said. He needed to give the medic a word it seemed... 

Knockout waited patiently, as patiently as he could that is. Megatron was hopeless! Eventually the racer decided to make a word for him or they'd never move things along. "Alright let's just make it Shockwave shall we? Primus knows the mention of that creepy fragger is enough to put anyone off." Knockout snorted at his own deadpan humour. "It's perfect my liege. Is that alright with you?" Megatron nodded in response, the medic relieved to finally have that business out of the way. Now they could return to the fun. "Remember that. Use it should you want us to stop. Now... would you like Breakdown to continue...?" The medic purred in Megatron's audial, leaning down close and letting hot breath pour over Megatron's sensors. 

Breakdown pressed a kiss to Megatron's thigh, eager to lose himself in those inviting folds once more and Megatron could scarcely keep the needy tone from his voice as he rumbled out a desperate, "yeeeess... Primus yes."

The warbird arced and freed a shuddering groan when Breakdown's heated glossa returned, slithering between soaked valve lips and lapping at his anterior node, worming its way into the tight heat between his thighs. Megatron gasped as the silky, writhing thing swirled inside him, lapping up lubricants and stroking at valve walls. The warbird shuttered his optics, letting himself drown in the sensations, the silken pleasure that felt so very good.

Knockout watched from beside the warlord, pleased now that Megatron's reservations had been dealt with. The warlord was still nervous but seemed to be a fraction more comfortable at least. Shrugging off the other's ridiculous woes, Knockout finally let his own panels retract, sighing in pleasure at the sudden freedom, his aching spike pressurising instantly at the sight of Megatron writhing just below. The racer's optics travelled over that luscious frame, delightful curves shifting and writhing as Breakdown forced pleasure upon the warrior's frame that Megatron had clearly never known before. The medic decided to help his lord along, stroking and kneading lightly at the mech's chest plating, playing with his abdonimal vents but ultimately slipping ever downwards to toy with the warbird's tempting looking spike.

It was huge, huge and utterly enticing. Knockout's optic lids drooped and he licked his lips at the sight, reaching out to brush his thumb over the straining member's tip. Megatron shouted in shocked pleasure, prompting the racer to wrap his servo firmly around the stiff rod. Knockout licked his lips as he watched Megatron crumble under his touch, moaning frantically and gripping the berth, panting and gasping loudly. He gave the warbird's spike a few swift tugs, soon leaning forward to lap at the engorged length. Hot glossa trailed over biolights, swirling around each bright little node and tracing up the length of his lord's spike, glossa's tip flicking over the member's blunt head and wriggling against the tiny slit atop it, tracing his way back down again and lapping at the warbird's housing seam. 

Megatron bucked and groaned in response, babbling and moaning, gasping and shuddering at the overwhelming bliss when he felt Knockout wrapped those devious lips around his spike. The racer suckled and licked, dentals grazing over the warbird's spike every so often and only lighting a deeper desire with the act, stirring a rich and potent pleasure in the pit of the warrior's tank. Megatron cried out when he felt lips wrap around his engorged node and suck, blissful and broad glossa writhing against the sensitive bead and making him squirm in delight. Frag he felt so empty though, his valve clenching around nothing, lubricants pooling beneath the warrior's curved rump as his needy slit flexed and quivered in desperation.

The warbird would berate himself later, stunned to realise how easily he fell to desperate pleading. "Please... something... so empty." It was all he needed to say, Breakdown slipping two fingers inside the warbird's quivering, hot cavity and pumping them in and out firmly. Megatron sobbed in relief, unsure which pleasure to chase, arcing his hips and trying to coax Knockout into taking in more of his spike, groaning in addled pleasure when the racer sucked and lapped with all the more enthusiasm, squeezing his spike hard and treating the aching appendage to a world of pleasure. One moment Megatron was bucking into that warm, welcoming heat on his spike, the next he was grinding down against Breakdown's servo, moaning shamelessly and barely keeping himself from begging for more. His prayers were answered when the APC worked another finger into his overheated valve, slamming the digits in hard and giving Megatron's clit-mouse a firm lick.

Megatron roared his overload, the sudden tumble into climax almost unexpected, charge building so quickly from the pair's knowing touches that the warbird didn't stand a chance of resisting. He arced and writhed, sobbing in relief as his valve finally bore down on something firm and satisfying, Breakdown fingering him through his climax, stuffing another digit into the warbird's quivering slit and pounding it hard. Megatron quivered and clenched around the invading servo, gripping it tightly and drawing wave after wave of pleasure from the flexing, curling digits as they expertly ground against neglected sensor nodes. A burst of sensory feedback, so intense it burned in the most beautiful ache lit his sensors as Breakdown ground his glossa into the tender little bead atop Megatron's soaked valve, blistering heat arcing out from the tormented nub and jolting through the warbird's frame, coaxing his stiff spike to twitch and throb.

The warbird gasped and moaned as his whole body tensed and pleasure overwhelmed every one of his sensors. The pressure in his spike built as his skilled medic lapped and sucked, sinking down deeply and taking in as much of the thick chord as he could. Megatron all but sobbed in relief as hot surges of lust spurted from his spike's tip, the length swallowed and suckled expertly, biolights and sensors wrapped in gorgeous heat and liquid pleasure as the warrior empties himself in a hot, willing intake. 

Megatron was helpless to control himself, sobbing and arching, crying out his release as he bucked between the two mechs pressing him down and drawing blissful sensations from his frame. He felt Knockout swallow around his sensitised length, groaning loudly at each warm clench of soft mesh tightened around him, drinking down his release. Megatron's frame shook as Breakdown continued to drag pleasure from his quivering valve. He continued to thrust firmly into Megatron's squelching, wet heat until the warbird finally sagged in his grasp, overload fading, attentions slowly tapering off and turning to a gentle and soothing pressure. 

Shaking hard, struggling to focus his optics and venting in harsh, shuddering gasps, Megatron groaned as his frame slumped strutlessly to the berth. He'd never experienced an overload like that, so powerful, so overwhelming. The pair of devillish mechs were still going as well, not forcing his body through blistering waves of feedback but instead coaxing overwhelmed sensors down into a pleasant satiation. Breakdown slowly fingered the warbird's valve, languid and luxuriously, lavishing a wonderful kind of warm satisfaction on the warrior's frame. Knockout gave his flagging spike a few soft strokes, transfluids dribbling down the length before it was finally abandoned. 

Megatron scarcely had words for how perfect, how spark shatteringly good the overload had been, merely groaning and weakly stretching, feeling tense joints loosen and stretch, the warbird soon laying limply and babbling something that could have been praise, could have been wordless noise. 

Knockout smirked, pleased to see Megatron had enjoyed himself. He let the warlord rest for a time, wiping the lingering trails of transfluids from his lips and coaxing Breakdown close. The APC opened his intake obediently and lapped at stained digits, humming in delight at the pleasure of tasting his lord's transfluids. The APC really did enjoy servicing others. Perhaps he was a pleasure drone in a former life? Knockout smirked at the thought, turning his attentions back to the placid pile of warbird parts currently splayed out in front of him.

"Lord Megatron...?"

Megatron stirred slightly, mumbling something. Knockout was shocked to see the warrior's servo slip down to his valve, Megatron shivering as he cupped the warm heat, hips bucking lightly as desperation filled the mech's field. Knockout was impressed, letting out an appreciative little coo and taking a firm grasp of the thick, straining chord between his mate's thighs, ignored and probably aching for attention.

Predictably, Breakdown groaned and pressed into Knockout's grip. "Uhn... Knockout... nnnh..." The racer merely smiled sweetly and tugged at the eager spike in his grasp, guiding Breakdown forward and making the larger mech chase after the pleasure those devious fingers promised. 

Breakdown bit down on a whimper, letting out a choked, desperate noise and blindly following the promise of pleasure, pressing forward until something warm and wet met the tip of his aching chord.

Megatron groaned and Breakdown's intakes hitched in barely concealed horror. He'd just... No. No, he hadn't just rubbed his spike on his leader's valve. That would be very very bad. Wouldn't it...? He held himself still, staring at Knockout in desperation, optics pleading for assistance.

Knockout had to cover his face, quashing the streams of giggling glee that threatened to erupt at the adorable sight of his mate, spike pressed against Megatron's soaked valve, optics screaming confusion and desperation. He truly was adorable. Finally gaining control of his voice, Knockout cleared his intake and leaned down to his lord's audial, purring in temptation. "I take it you have no objections my liege?" He caught a brief shake of the warbird's helm, Megatron going so far as to wriggle his hips in invitation. His helm was turned away, the old warframe still embarassed but clearly wanting.

Knockout grinned. "Well then... Breakdown?" 

The stocky blue nurse sagged in relief, taking a few calming invents as, not for the first time today, he tried to convince himself he wouldn't be deactivated for this. "Y- sure..?" The mech was still nervous, relieved when Megatron finally hummed an affirmative, nodding his helm slightly.

Convinced, Breakdown was finally able to enjoy the spectacle before him. He had wound up between Megatron's legs, the warbird resting with his aft perched on the edge of the berth, plating glinting seductively in the dim light as trickles of lubricants bordered sweet and guarded parts, all surrounded by the fierce and undeniably attractive frame that left so many mechs breathless. Megatron was undoubtedly a hot piece of aft. 

Breakdown pressed forward experimentally, rubbing his spike over the warlord's plump and enticing folds. 

Megatron gasped and ground his hips down in response, Breakdown groaning at the sight, the needy display. After all his reluctance now he could scarcely keep from plowing into the hot, messy mech beneath him, biting down on his lip to remind himself to keep control, to go slow.

"Alright... I'm gonna be careful." The APC moved again, grinding his spike over fat, glistening folds and making the warbird beneath him gasp needily. Breakdown moaned as he felt his spike teased by that luxurious heat, platlets scraping over Megatron's bared array tauntingly, driving both mechs wild with arousal.

A half choked demand met Breakdown's audials. "Get... on.... with it!" 

Not needing any further prompting, Breakdown was all too happy to finally draw his hips back, lining up the tip of his girthy rod with the quivering heat that beckoned it. He took a deep invent, reminding himself that this was all ok, this was all consensual and desired and slowly pressed in. 

Megatron arched off the berth, hissing and gasping, tearing gouges in the berth beneath before abruptly slumping back in defeat, optics rolling back and intake going slack. He moaned something that no one caught, optics drooping to a half shutter as Breakdown slowly nudged forward.

The APC's intakes stalled completely for a moment. Megatron was so tight! So hot! Breakdown had to grab a hold onto the berth's edge to keep himself upright, processor spinning from the intense pressure bearing down on his spike so perfectly. "Primus..." He looked down to see only the tip of his spike buried, forcing a few deep invents before moving again. 

Slowly, agonisingly, Megatorn felt the unforgiving, hard pressure of his subordinate's spike grind into him, choking back a sob at the perfect pleasure of finally being filled up. "Uhn... fffrag..." Megatron could only groan and stare in bewilderment at the cieling, blinking and gasping, shuttering his optics as he felt more of the APC's spike force its way inside him. Megatron shivered. He felt his calipers stretch wide, felt the firm pressure grinding against sensor nodes and dragging pleasure from his frame with every slow advance. 

Breakdown groaned as he looked down at his lord, splayed open and begging for it, desperate for relief. The APC rolled his hips in small circles, getting Megatron used to his girth, stretching the warframe out before he tried to bury himself too deeply. Megatron seemed all too eager for it but the APC was horrified to think of what would happen to him if he damaged his lord's valve. Bad things. Very bad things. Of this, the mech was sure. Thankfully it was easy not to linger on those unpleasant thoughts with his lord and master spread out before him, moaning wantonly. "Mmm... nice."

Megatron's optics rolled back when he finally felt Breakdown hilt himself, the APC's thick chord pressing in deeply, hip plates meeting Megatron's own and making the warbird buck in sheer, needy arousal. "Uhhff!" Megatron luxuriated in the simple pleasure of finally feeling full, the thick spike buried inside him lighting up sensors pleasantly. It did little to sate the burning need in the pit of his tank however, Megatron starting to roll his hips, urging Breakdown to move. 

The APC took the hint, drawing back, dragging out the movement and scraping over sensitive nodes, drawing a feverish gasp from Megatron. Then the mech drove back inside, thrust firm and blissful. Megatron cried out in broken pleasure, helm rolling back and intake spitting static as his cry turned to a needy wail. 

Without pause, without reprieve, the APC repeated the movement, drawing back langurously slow, teasing Megatron's entrance this time and making the warbird growl in frustration before that hard, perfect length drove into him again, stretching calipers wide, searing over desperately needy sensors and sending Megatron into a deep pit of blind desire. Megatron forced his hips forward to meet Breakdown's own this time, meeting the APC's thrust and sobbing in perfect pleasure when that delectable spike nudged his cieling node.

Megatron wailed when Breakdown took up a steady pace, soon forgetting his shame, propping himself up on his elbows and meeting every one of Breakdown's thrusts, forcing that thick spike in deeply and singing from the blissful stimulation it lit across his frame. 

Gaining confidence, Breakdown reached out with one servo to tweak the warlord's nub, drawing a hitching wail from the mech and feeling Megatron tighten around his length. The sweet, hot folds rippled around him and Breakdown summoned up his restraint, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the warlord's nub once more before steadily rolling his hips, grinding in to the other mech and drinking in every spark deep cry of pleasure that Megatron loosed like it was the sweetest high grade. 

Calipers tightened around his spike with an almost painful grip, squeezing and massaging, trying to drag release from the mech but Breakdown refused. He'd only just gotten started. Focusing on Megatron's pleasure, on keeping up a steady rhythm, he changed his pace, slowing his thrusts but tilting his hips up, aiming for the warrior's hidden and most tender spot and driving in with firm, fast, almost vicious strokes, lingering there and letting Megatron writhe as his cieling node was stimulated again and again, slammed into, ground against then abandoned, only for the action to be repeated time and again. 

Megatron writhed on the berth, desperately forcing himself down to meet every one of Breakdown's thrusts, feeling the heat, the pressure build in his lower abdomen, getting more and more desperate and eager with each thrust. His servos started to shake, pressure and heat climbing higher and higher until he thought he would burst from the sheer torment. Then Breakdown slammed home once more, snapping his hips forward with a forceful slam, holding himself there while Megatron clenched and rippled around him.

"Mm-move!" The warlord snarled, furious yet struggling for breath. How dare Breakdown stop! He wanted to be fragged into oblivion! Wanted that thick chord to fill him up again and again until he couldn't process. 

From somewhere nearby, Knockout snickered. Breakdown stifled a yelp, terrified of disappointing his leader. He set his hips in motion with renewed vigour, ignoring his own charge, desperate to please Megatron and keep his own plating out of the smelting pit. "Y-yes my lord!" The obedient cry came out as a helpless squeak, more quiet sounds of amusement from the nearby racer making Breakdown blush in embarassment. Anyone would think that Breakdown was the one in charge here, spike buried in the other, drawing ragged moans and hitched invents from the addled mech but the warlord's commanding presence was felt even in the berthroom. Breakdown could only hope to appease his lord.

"My my... so very imptatient my liege..." Knockout smirked. Megatron glared, optics not lingering on the racer for long. Breakdown drove into his valve wildly with the next thrust, making Megatron wail in ecstasy. "Ohhh! Yesss! Uhn... more... more!" The warbird pressed his hips up, begging with his frame even as his glossa lashed out in vicious demand. 

Breakdown counted the seconds, focused on keeping himself in control. He had to last at least a few more minutes! One...two....three... Frag this was hard. Megatron felt so tight... so good. The APC blinked in shock when red filled his vision, Breakdown feeling an impossible surge of lust as he watched Knockout climb atop his lord, gorgeous aft waving about enticingly before the racer sank himself down on Megatron's length, greedy, hungry. 

"Ahnn! Mmm... my liege..." Knockout hadn't even waited to ask, sure that there was no way the needy warbird would refuse him. The racer had suckled on that engorged spike, lapped at and watched the thick, delectable length overload. Now he wanted it. The moment Megatron had gotten hard again Knockout had pounced, cooing in delight as he felt himself stretched wide to accomodate his lord's girth. 

"Ahhhh... frag that's good..." The lithe racer wriggled his aft on Megatron's lap, grinding the warlord's chord against sweet and hidden sensors. Knockout's groan of pleasure mingled with the others about him, Breakdown unable to tear his optics away, watching his mate's aft bob up and down on Megatron's chord as he fragged his leader, rolling his hips in forecul, firm thrusts, hissing at the agony of holding himself back. 

Megatron finally looked up, tearing the servo away from his faceplates when he felt a warm, wet pressure wrap itself around his spike. Knockout drawled a pleasured gasp and ground against his spike, Megatron feeling his processor spin at the sight. Breakdown rutting into him... Knockout losing himself to pleasure as he wriggled around in bliss, moaning and babbling away with a ceaseless stream of praise, of ecstatic bliss.

Knockout leaned back against his mate, feeling Breakdown brush against his back, the comfort, the intimacy surging from Breakdown setting the medic to drawling out a pleasured coo. He tilted his helm up to favour Breakdown with a kiss, forcing the APC to slow his thrusts, bury his length in soaked heat in order to return Knockout's affections. 

Megatron looked up when the blissful pounding stopped, almost whining at the sight of the open, beautiful pleasure shared between the two before him. He gasped when Knockout turned his sights on him, the racer clenching his valve with a smirk and letting out a single chuckle of amusement as Megatron gasped and fought to control himself at the tight heat encircling him. The racer leaned down, capturing his dazed lord's lips in a light and breezy kiss.

The warbird's fears were swept away at that moment, barriers falling, need driving away all thoughts of resistance. He let himself collapse, let his walls crumble and his thoughts drift. "Knockout..." Megatron rose to meet his fiesty medic this time, claiming the racer's lips in a passionate meeting, glossa flicking out over the other's own, tasting, moaning, panting. 

Megatron let his servos fall to his sides, all but collapsing back to the berth with a breathless sigh, tilting his hips up and grabbing a firm hold of Knockout's brilliantly polished aft, grasping, groping, stroking as the medic gasped and wriggled. Megatron was helpless to hold himself back, moaning, drawling in pleasured bliss and Breakdown rocked against him, heavy and firm. 

The warlord gripped Knockout's hips, forcing the racer down on his spike, groaning at the tight and sudden heat as the medic clenched around him again, so wet, so hot and perfect. Knockout sang his lord's praise, allowing his frame to be used, to be forced down again and again, filled and taken in blissful surrender. 

Knockout howled when he felt Megatron abruptly change his pace. The warlord went from firm, steady thrusts to a sudden wild lust fuelled need, bucking desperately against the racer, forcing Knockout down with a fierce grip that would leave dents in the medic's plating. Knockout was too far gone to care, writhing, thrashing in Megatron's hold, throwing his helm back and screaming in silent bliss when overload suddenly slammed into him at full force. His vocaliser was too choked and static laced to function, Knockout simply gasping and whimpering as he was ruthlessly pounded, forced against that unyielding spike again and again until he thought he would break from the pressure.

Searing heat pooled in his array and Knockout sobbed in genuine fear when he felt his charge crescendoe and peak, dialing down momentarily only to skyrocket back up, a second overload tearing through him moments later. Knockout shook, latching on to his master desperately, riding out the almost painful pleasure as his hips were forced down on that gorgeous spike again and again, so hard, so hot it bordered on agony, the pleasure overwhelming, too intense, too much.

Breakdown lost his restrain when he watched Knockout tumble over the edge, groaning and taking a firm hold of Megatron's hips, moving with the warbird and driving his own spike home in time with Megatron's thrusts. Each heavy, powerful, thrust into the warbird's heat forced Megatron along, guiding the warrior's spike deeper, harder into Knockout's willing valve. The three moved in unison, overheated and soaked parts clattering together noisily, breathless sobs and moans filling the air, thick with ozone and the scent of lubricant.

Breakdown came with a shuddering moan when he saw Knockout writhe through his second overload, the racer utterly beautiful as he transformed into a conduit of blind desire, heat, need and impossible pleasure. The APC growled as he rutted hard into Megatron, chasing his own overload, abandoning his cares and simply giving in as he watched Knockout melt into pleasured bliss. 

Megatron's sensors fritzed, his optics blaring static and his audials ringing uselessly as he writhed between the two mechs, helplessly trapped between two searing hot frames, driven on by the overwhelming heat between the pair. The warbird thought he could hear his own energon sizzle and pop in his fuel lines, Megatron overheating badly, cooling fans roaring as they struggled to douse the impossible heat bubbling in his frame. Breakdown's overload pushed Megatron over the edge, hot pulses of fluids spattering his once virginal valve walls and drawing a broken sob from the mech.

Megatron howled, lost, desperate, frame set ablaze and seeming to pulse in time with his spark as overload so intense that his visual feed fell offline tore through him. The warlord shook, curvaceous and condensation soaked thighs trembling in Breakdown's grasp, servos gripping the berth tight, optics rolling back and glossa lolling as he writhed between two warm and firm conduits of pleasure, one silken and eager, the other firm and unforgiving. The world slipped away as raw pleasure overcame him, Megatron arching, moaning as release so heady he nearly toppled offline trampled over him frame, forcing Megatron to submit.

The warlord could only moan and shake, valve tight and rippling, spike milked by the gredy heat entrapping it above. He thought he could offline there, free-falling into blind release so suddenly, so helplessly that the world seemed distant and unimportant. 

Megatron mewled in helpelss bliss as Breakdown continued to rut into him, the APC having long since overloaded. The pair had watched avidly as Megatron seemed to tumble from one overload to the next, their own charge tapering off. Megatron though... he was insatiable. The warbird only grew more primal, more needy with each peak in charge, each blinding overload. He writhed beneath Breakdown, gasping, whining, all thoughts other than the desire to overload agian and again chased from his mind.

Knockout cooed appreciatively, dragging himself free from the sticky mess between them, sighing in relief when Megatron's thick chord popped free with an obscene, wet noise. He looked down to see Megatron still full of need, still rampant with desire and wondered how to deal with the hungry, eager mech below.

"Oh Megatron... who would have imagined you'd be so very... eager. It's quite endearing." Knockout smirked as he leaned down to graze dentals over the warbird's neck cables, confidant now that Megatorn was more or less incapable of denying him, of denying himself the pleasure he still desperately craved.

"Mhuh..." Megatron only stared up at the racer, babbling questioningly, whining when he felt the perfect, filling pressure in his valve disappear, left empty and wanting. He didn't have long to stew in needy torment however, a thick, cool pressure nudging against his slit. Megatron wriggled against it eagerly, parting his thighs wide and tilting his hips, begging with his frame.

The false spike nudged its way between moist and shivering thighs, Knockout grinning as he watched Megatron tense and then relax, merely moaning and arcing his hips needily. Knockout felt a surge of viscious glee as he tore the false spike free, dipping into Megatron's heat barely long enough for the warlord to relax before tugging it free, nudging the big mech's folds in cruel temptation. Perhaps it was foolish but... Megatron looked so utterly delightful like this, bared and open, needy and... Knockout startled when he realised it, utterly submissive. It was truly lovely to behold, Knockout deciding to see how far he could push his luck.

"My liege... so hot aren't you..." Knockout continued teasing the big mech's array, grinding the false spike against it, smirking all the while. Megatron writhed underneath him, looking up through dazed optics, lips parted, vents harsh and hot.

"Do you want this....?" Knockout leaned down, whispering in his master's audial, tilting the toy and rubbing it over Megatron's engorged clit, drawing a gasp from the big mech. He slowly slipped the toy down again, plunging it ever so shallowly into Megatron's heat, tormenting the formerly indomitable warbird. "Tell me you want it..." Knockout purred.

Megatron's vents hitched, his cooling fans whirring with renewed vigour. Forcing out overheated air as he breathlessly gasped. "Yes... yes... want it..." Megatron almost whined, desperate, beside himself with need. 

Knockout smiled benignly, finally sinking the toy deeply into his lord, humming in pleased approval as Megatron writhed and groaned at the firm pressure. Satisfied, Knockout handed the task over to Breakdown. The APC had been standing nearby, practically gnawing on his fingers as he watched Knockout play with fire, terrified the warbird would come to his senses and pummel his precious racer into the ground for tormenting him. Relief filled Breakdown's field as he quickly stepped up and took over for Knockout, indulging Megatron with a nice firm pace that set the warbird to cooing in pleasure.

Knockout stepped back to admire the scene, grinning as a wicked thought came to him. He quickly took a snapshot, followed by a short vid of his lord and master whining and whimpering under Breakdown's attentions. Knockout made sure to get a good clear view of the fluids painting Megatron, the distant, dazed look in his optics. He even snuck in close to get a good view of the warbird's stretched and stuffed valve, the false spike quite a large one. Megatron looked utterly enticing stuffed full with the thick rod, writhing every time Breakdown slammed the toy in firmly. 

Knockout sent the files off with a massive grin, already looking forward to Starscream's response. Let the seeker see how it was truly done! Only a moment later he was treated to a hilariously long string of snarky, irritated responses. Knockout had obviously managed to strike a chord. Starscream was furious. Maybe he had feelings for the old mech after all? Or maybe he just didn't like being outdone by the racer. Either way, Knockout spent a quiet few moments chuckling at the seeker's expense, soon turning his optics on the enticing sight before him.

The racer's spike twitched and Knockout sauntered back to the fun, already eager for another turn with the warlord.


	4. Optimus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> barely proofread.... because I'm lazy >.>

Things were getting out of hand. Megatron had only been able to keep his charge down for the better part of a solar cycle. It was maddening! Relief was shortlived, shame nipping at his spark until the overwhelming need descended on him again. He was desperately staving off the urge to self service when the Autobots were detected, Megatron going so far as to let out a frustrated whine as his needs were foribly set aside. His servo had been straying towards his panel, charge building, need rising, abruptly darting away like it was burned as blaring sirens filled the air.

"Autobots..." He growled. Soundwave pinged him with co-ordintes. The bots had launched an attack on one of their energon mines, obviously hoping to resupply their paltry supplies and cripple the Decepticons own in the process. With an aggravated huff, Megatron abandoned his own needs, hauling himself up and storming towards the command deck, shouting orders when he arrived.

 

 

The battle was fierce, Megatron joining the fray and storming towards his opponenets with a fearsome bellow. "Prime!" He charged, thundering forwards, heavy pedes slamming down as he charged, sword arm extending and slashing out wildly. Optimus deflected his blow, the Prime's smaller blades sending Megatron's arcing out, too wide. The Prime took advantage of the oppurtunity to lunge forward, aiming for Megatron's throat.

The warlord used his wayward momentum to force himself further into the wide swing, throwing his weight behind the arcing swipe and just barely missing Optimus' thrust. Carrying through with his swing, Megatron pressed forward, arcing in a swift circle and throwing all his weight, all his power into a massive slash that would have sliced any other bot in two were they fool enough to stand within his reach. Optimus was no normal bot however.

The Prime ducked, dropping to his knees, air rushing over his helm as Megatron's blade slashed overhead. Then he surged forwards, pushing off, momentum carrying him straight at Megatron's chassis as he threw himself into the tackle. 

Megatron grunted and tumbled back with the Prime, the pair of them rolling through the dusty earth, shattering outcroppings of energon and dusty earth alike until an ominous rumble sounded through the air. 

Weapons were retracted, Megatron and Optimus abandoning armaments and grappling in close contact, heat and rage rolling off both powerful frames in waves. They never noticed the crackle of earth underneath, the suddenness of the cave in taking both mechs by surprise. Earth crumbled and shattered, chaotic thunder rolling through the cavern as the pair of mechs disappeared into the earth.

 

 

"Master!" Starscream shouted after the pair, distracted by a blast from Arcee, hissing and darting back only to launch a volley of missiles at the femme.

Arcee tumbled into an evasive roll, transforming and circling back, regrouping with her team. "Bulk! Prime is-"

"Yeah!" The ex-wrecker grunted and sent a vehicon careening into the nearest wall with a powerful swing. "I- uff- saw! What do we do!"

"We've got to help Optimus! These blasted cons won't let up though!" 

The battle raged on, both sides fighting on, unable to reach their leaders. "Optimus is on his own for now!" 

 

 

 

A resounding crash blasted through the air, both mechs grunting as they tumbled for what seemed like ages, earth shattering beneath, paint scraping and rock gouging as they fell. Finally, solid earth  
met the frames of both warriors, Megatron and Optimus slamming into the unforgiving ground with an almighty crash.

Dust billowed as the thunderous boom rang forth, the clang of metal colliding echoing through the cavern. Both mechs had fallen heavily, damaged and scraped, winded and aching.

"Ughhh..." The Prime was the first to stirr, shaking his helm and dragging himself up, blinking as he looked down to see Megatron pinned underneath him. Dazed and disoriented, Optimus fought to focus, noticing Megatron beginning to stir, groaning himself and scrunching up his faceplates in obvious pain. 

"Megatron!" Optimus' blade snicked into view, pressing against the warlord's neck cables in warning. 

Megatron's processor finally managed to boot, optics onlining to the sight of a very ticked off Prime and a very sharp weapon pointed at him. "Prime..." It was a rasping wheeze, dust collected in the warlord's intakes. Megatron hacked a cough. "Eugh... filthy planet..."

Optimus stared down at his captive with narrowed optics, knowing all too well that Megatron was not a mech to underestimate, even when cornered. "Don't...move..." A stern warning. Prime pressed his blade against Megatron's neck in warning. 

Megatron's invents hitched as he felt cold steel brush against him, his overheating frame responding with a shiver. "Nhh... are we...?"

"Trapped? Yes. The cave in seems to have cut off any route of escape." Realising there was no way he could effectively capture Megatron in this situation, the Prime's blade retracted, Optimus glaring down at the warlord in warning.

Megatron hummed in understanding, letting out an exvent of relief as the chill blade at his neck disappeared. "Ever the merciful fool Optimus..." He grinned. Prime glared at him and Megatron only laughed, grunting when the Prime pushed off him, moving to stand and exploring the small cavern they'd been trapped in.

The warbird felt his frame running hot, putting it down to the proximity of another. He couldn't help but stare at Prime as the Autobot moved around the room however, optics locked to the bot's slim struts and narrow hips, that handsome face pinning him with a glare when Optimus turned back towards him. Even with his his battle mask hiding him, Megatron still drank in the sight of Optimus' brilliant optics, prideful, stubborn. Megatron shivered under that stare, his frame heating another fraction, panel pinging him for release. 

Prime put his servo to his audial, sighing a moment later at the failed communication. "No response. It seems we are indeed trapped." The truckformer set about inspecting the rubble, looking for the easiest apth through the mountains of rubble but all directions looked the same. It would take them an unknown number of hours to clear a path, Optimus sighing again as he turned and sank down to the ground, grimacing as he felt warm energon on his abdomen. 

The fall had caused a few minor lacerations to his frame, nothing major but it was irritating on top of being trapped in a confined space with his enemy. Optimus glared at Megatron.

The silence lasted only a short time, Megatron never one to miss taunting an opponent. "Just think Prime... if only you had the bolts to go through with it, you could have ended this war. Just a fraction more pressure... I couldn't have evaded you. You could have won! Could have grasped victory and returned to your Autobots victorious!"

Optimus listened for as long as he could take it, eventually growing too furious to remain silent. "Enough!" 

He shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't have said anything. Megatron's toothy grin was far too self-satisfied now. He'd gotten what he wanted, a reaction. Optimus cursed his own weakness. Now he was in for it...

"Don't like hearing the truth, Prime? You've always been too weak to stomach it. Your pretty little ideals only ever went so far... Have faith. Isn't that what you always said? Well... what good is faith to a starving mech?" Megatron sneered, memory drifting back to a time, a place long ago. The Prime had urged patience, hoping to slowly change Cybertron for the better. It was still a death sentence to the lower class. Their sparks would be extinguished by the time true cahnge was wrought.

Optimus mulled over the words, taking Megatron's speech to spark despite knowing better. After a time he murmured. "What choice did I have...? To act otherwise would cause chaos... death..."

Megatron snarled at the limp response. "Death? You mean like the countless factory workers deactivated in the line of duty? The mechs left to slowly starve in the slums, forced to sell their own frames for another paltry ration, another day of suffering? You're a fool, Optimus! A blind, arrogant fool!"

That was all the Prime could take. He knew Megatron was right, damn it! He'd always known! But violence propogated yet more violence! It was a vicious cycle that would only lead them further down the path to self destruction. "Quiet! That's enough!"

Megatron laughed, the rich, rolling sound echoing through the tiny cavern, impossible to block out, filled with mockery.

"I SAID ENOUGH!" Optimus boomed, storming across the room, pinning Megatron down and taking both servos to the mech's throat. He squeezed, optics huge and fierce, filled with hate, with frustrated pride and loathing.

Laughter choked out of him, Megatron rasped and hissed, not resisting as the Prime straddled him, lost to anger and malice. This was what he wanted! Despite the protests from his frame, the blaring overheating warnings and aching from his neck cables, Megatron grinned. Optimus had fallen from his lofty perch. The Prime was no better than he now and the warlord let his optics shimmer in delight in that knowledge. The Prime must have seen it, his optics suddenly going wide, his grip slackening.

"No..." 

Megatron choked out a rumbling chuckle.

"No... I'm not.... I'm not like that... I'm not..."

"You're no different."

Optimus roared, lashing out, sending a fist crashing down on Megatron's jaw that buckled plating and threatened to snap the entire structure. "Enough!" Optimus shook, all his anger, all his frustration starting to leak out. He couldn't control himself, couldn't hold himself back, restraint turning brittle and raw. 

Megatron groaned and tried to lift a servo to his aching jaw, finding it pinned down by the Prime. The sudden realisation of it hit him and his engine revved, trapped under the warm, desireable frame, his own plating scorching to the touch. He realised he was panting, optics half shuttered, panel on fire. He wondered if the Prime could feel it. Megatron rolled his hips experimentally.

Cold fury latched on to Optimus and the truckformer couldn't hold himself back. His servos kept shaking, his processor screaming in outrage, in hatred. Megatron smirked, the look on the warmonger's face enough to shatter Optimus' restraint entirely. Furious, the Prime moved, lifting himself up and grabbing a hold of his captive, forcing Megatron on to his belly and jamming a knee into the warrior's back. He pinned the mech's arm, stretching Megatron's shoulder to the point of pain and relishing the warlord's hiss of agony.

It shouldn't have felt good! It shouldn't! He'd moved Megatron to stifle his laughter, to avoid looking at that smug face! "Silence!" The order boomed but Megatron ignored it, laughing through the pain. 

Optimus felt his processor reel, his hatred bloom in a vicious outburst that had him slamming Megatron's face down into the dirt. He lifted Megatron's helm only to bring it crashing down into the dirt, feeling a surge of pleasure in the pit of his tank as he caught the barest hint of a whimper escape the silver lord.

"Enough..." His vocaliser cracked. He was furious. Furious at himself, at Megatron, furious he couldn't hold himself back. If Megatron kept pushing him....well...

"Weak sparked... fool..." Megatron chuckled, energon dripping over his lips from his scraped and torn faceplates. His frame was on fire, constant pings to release his spike and bare his valve becoming more and more difficult to ignore. Then Megatron felt those strong servos on his throat again, squeezing, clenching, hurting. His panel snapped back instantly, lubricants dripping free from his scorching valve, low hiss filling the air as the warrior felt his spike pressurise against the filthy, dusty ground.

Optimus vented hard, furious. He squeezed, relishing Megatron's thin whine as the warlord writhed beneath him. Dark pleasure soaked his spark as he took full advantage of his position, forcing Megatron's face into the dirt, choking the slagger and making him whimper. 

The heat coming off Megatron was phenomenal, Optimus' own rising to match the slagmaker's. He rutted up against the silver mech's aft, sudden savage desire hitting him full force as Megatron's hungry valve, bare and hot, ground against his crotchplate. Optimus' own panel slid back instantly, spike pressuring in a moment and bearing down on Megatron's hungry valve, forcing itself in to the tight, quivering heat in one swift motion.

Megatron screamed, hot agony knifing through his systems, pleasure following on its heels and coiling around the ache in blissful relief. He'd been more than eager for this, valve dripping in desire, tight and hot. Optimus plunging into his needy little hole had been the most exquisite torment, agonising yet perfect. His valve lining ached from the rough entry but he could hardly hold back the long, deep moan that built in his intake.

"Ahhnn... slag, yes!" 

Optimus snarled and rutted, uncaring for his captive's pleasure, thrilling in dominating the warlord after many long years of holding back. It felt so good to put Megatron in his place, to have him whining beneath him, forced open, weak, beaten, filthy.

"You're disgusting..." Optimus grunted as he pulled back, dragging his spike slowly from the clutching, quivering valve only to surge forward, slamming his whole length home in one swift motion.

"Eaaah! Uh..mm... me...? Hah... you-you're one to- ahh! To talk..."

Optimus responded by reaching down and giving the Decepticon's spike a rough squeeze, growling low and dangerous.

Megatron melted, resistance falling away, blind desire overwhelming. "Uhhhn... frag yes... yeeeessss! Prime... mmmmh..." It felt so good to finally have something firmly buried in his valve, Prime's dominance coming as a welcome surprise to the needy warbird. "Mmmh... yes... just like that..." 

Optimus sneered at the Decepticon, looking down at the tight warmth wrapped around his spike. He drew back and watched as Megatron's lubricants coated his spike, warm and plentiful. The smell was overwhelming. Optimus felt almost dazed as a potent whiff of the warmonger's scent assaulted his sensors, driving all logical thought away, replacing it with blind, primal desire.

"Filthy... Who knew you were so greedy for spike, Megatron..." The Prime's rich voice boomed, powerful, commanding in the small space. He took a firm hold of Megatron's curved hips, pulling the mech up onto all fours and dragging his spike over Megatron's leaking slit, teasing, tormenting.

Megatron groaned, his cheeks burning, his needs stampeding over good sense. "Uhhnn... frag! Fuck me you useless slagger! Do it!"

Optimus laughed now, the sound dark and ominous as he continued to tease the clenching slit greedily begging for him. "Who knew you were such a needy thing Megatron... do you let your mechs take you all at once? I always wondered why the vehicons were so loyal..." The Prime's words were laced with venom, Optimus growling deep in his throat, relishing his dominance over the other. 

Megatron clawed at the ground, trying desperately to force his hips back. "Fragger! Stop talking and fuck me!" Despite his anger there was an edge of raw desperation in Megatron's voice, the warlord's vocals almost breaking.

Optimus' laughter rolled over his audials and Megatron cooed needily, wriggling hips hips, panting heavily. "Prime..."

All at once the warlord felt himself impaled, Optimus' thick shaft driving into him in one swift motion, pounding into the deepest part of his valve and tearing a ragged wail from the warrior. Megatron sobbed in relief, grinding back, gasping and thrashing, begging shamelessly. "More! More! Please! Ple-uhnnnnfraaag me!" The warbird forced his hips back, grinding against Optimus and squeezing hard around the Prime's stiff chord.

"Ohhh fraaaag...." His hips tiltied up and his thighs splayed wide, his servos gouging at the dirt. Megatron whimpered as Optimus set a firm pace, pulling back slowly only to thrust back in with a viciousness and force that set Megatron's processor to spinning. He struggled to hold himself still, Optimus' thrusts so forceful, so brutal that all Megatron could do was hold on. 

"Uhhn... Megatron..." Optimus was finally letting go, bathing in the raw lust that threatened to consume him. Anger was set aside, nothing but desire ruling the mech now. Optimus buried his shaft with one more firm stroke, finally spilling his load deep inside the writhing, gasping Con on his knees before him. Optimus groaned and felt Megatron clench around him, desperate, eager, still begging for relief. 

"No.... nuuuuhhh... uhhhh... nnh... you fragger! Don't... don't..." It was too late though. Megatron was left teetering on the edge of release, Optimus spent and used up. What was the warlord to do now? He felt hot pulses slipping into his valve, filling it up. It was almost enough to push Megatron over the edge but not quite. Megatron whined and wriggled, held firmly in place, unable to do more than meekly accept Optimus' load, the hot surges driving him mad. 

"Nhhhhuuuhh... I need... need..." 

Optimus withdrew with a wet 'shlorp,' watching his release drip steadily from Megtron's stretched and twitching valve. The Con fell forward, gasping and whining, wriggling his filthy aft in the air like some desperate cyberanimal. 

"Pathetic..."

Megatron groaned and squeezed his thighs together, burning in need. It looked like he'd have to take care of himself however. Megatron flipped himself onto his aft, legs splayed wide and showing off the sticky cum steadily dripping from his slit. Twin fingers were quickly thrust into the leaking hole, angling up, curling towards Megatron's ceiling node as the warbird teased his glowing clit-mouse with his other servo.

The Prime watched, transfixed as Megatron unabashedly fucked himself on his servo, quickly moving from teasing his valve to forcing in as many fingers as he could take, kneeling and sinking down over and over. Optimus felt his spike twitch in renewed interest after only a short reprieve, the Prime shifting forward, moving to touch the searing hot heat of his adversary.

"Ahn! Uh... mh... damn it Prime..." Megatron bit off the whimper threatening to loose itself as the Prime gently stroked his array. "Ffffrag... just... frag it... PLEASE!"

Optimus was taken aback. Megatron must have been desperate if he was begging for help getting off. Smiling behind his facemask, the Autobot retreated, doing precisely the opposite of what Megatron wanted. "Mhh... I think not. You can work for it." A vicious desire to see Megatron come unravelled drove him on. 

Leaning back against a wall, Optimus stroked himself to arousal once more, looking at Megatron and rumbling in a commanding voice. "Make yourself useful." 

Megatron looked over at the stiff, tempting chord, eagerly crawling over to the Prime, stifling his revulsion and crawling atop the Prime without delay. He let that firm, blissful chord brush against his slit in tempt for a moment before finally sinking down with a squeal of delight.

"Ahhh! Hahh! Mmmh... Frag! Uhhh..." 

Optimus mirrored his enthusiasm, letting out a static laced cry as the warlord began to gyrate his hips. The decepticon was so fragging tight! He wasn't going to last long.

Megatron drawled out a long, blissful groan, rocking his hips back and forth, grinding down on the fat, filling spike pressing against his sensors so wonderfully. He leaned back and hauled himself up, slamming down and howling as the Prime's spike brushed against his ceiling node, throwing Megatron into an overload immediately.

The warlord's valve spiralled down, squeezing tightly around the intruder buried within. Calipers tightened and lubricants flooded the stuffed channel, dribbling out from between stretched and flushed valve lips as Megatron bounced up and down time and again, drool dribbling from the corner of his intake as his optics rolled back and another overload trampled across his systems. 

Megatron could only sob and grind down, holding on to Optimus as his lower body spasmd and tensed. He felt hot lubricants gushing from his slit, Optimus' spike so perfect, so firm and solid against his sensors that it was impossible to stop. Megatron mindlessly writhed and ground against his enemy, moaning blissfully as overload after overload wracked his systems. 

Optimus groaned and fought to stave off his own peak, edging closer and closer to release, gasping as Megatron tensed and ripple around him ceaselessly. His servos slipped down to wrap around the warlord's thick thighs, squeezing, touching, grasping hard enough to dent metal. 

"Op-timus! Uhhhn!" Megatron panted heavily, wildly slamming himself down on the Autobot's chord again and again, sobbing as blissful relief finally took him and the burning need in his systems was replaced by a tide of sweet bliss. The warbird thrashed and cried out, feeling another hot surge fill his valve as Optimus grunted and thrust inside of him, holding him down even as Megatron writhed and fought. 

"Fuuu-fff-frag! Fff- Ahhhn!" Megatron felt each spurt of transfluids gushing out of the Prime's spike, spurting against his clenched and rippling valve walls, sending wave after wave of bliss through his sensornet. "Ahhn... frag it Prime... mm-mmmove! Please!" Megatron's voice broke in a desperate sob, the warbird screaming as he finally got what he wanted.

Prime forced Megatron down hard, gritting his dentals and howling as he thrust his hips up again and again, pounding the desperate, soaked valve so eager to take him. "Uhn... mm-Megatronus..." 

The old name stirred a long buried desire in Megatron and he felt his valve ripple anew, calipers bearing down, tight heat clenching and squeezing, milking Optimus' spike of every last drop of fluids. "Ahhhn! Frag! Prime! Priiime! Nggaaah!" Megatron's frame burned and his valve clenched and rippled so fiercely that he felt his spark would burst. The heat, the tightness, the pressure, it all built and crescendoed yet again until Megatron was rutting, grinding against the Autobot in desperation, glossa lolling to one side, optics blind and unseeing through the haze of pleasure.

"Uhnn... Prime... mmh... frag... your spike...so good... mm... more more MORE PLEASE!" 

One last frantic thrust sent the warbird over the edge so hard he offlined, howling in bliss before collapsing against his enemy, fragged into unconsciousness.

 

 

 

Some time later Optimus finally managed to stir the warbird still warming his spike, now limp and lightly aching. "Megatron." 

"Mhh..." 

"Megatron! You need to move!" Prime vented in frustration.

"Nnnh..." Megatron seemed unconvinced, grinding down on the Prime's soft spike, obviously still hungry for more.

"Megatronus!" 

Optimus' startled cry finally jarred the warrior back online, Megatron blinking in a dazed wonder as he looked down to a mess of transfluids and a very confused, flustered Prime. It was almost cute.

"What..." 

"You don't remember...do you? I... neither do I... to a large degree. I do not know what came over me... but.... I am deeply sorry." 

Megatron could only laugh, blurting out in raucous song. Prime was blushing, his spike still buried in Megatron's heat and all the slagger could think to do was apologise? The mech truly was hopeless! 

"Stop..."

Megatron's chuckling did in fact die down, if only due to the resulting tension and ache it caused in his array. He hissed in displeasure. "We... were-"

Prime made a noise of discomfort. That alone was enough evidence for Megatron. Finally the warbird found strength enough in his struts to move, hoisting himself up, Optimus' spike slipping free with a wet noise.

"I do not understand how it came about.... but.... I regret my actions. To take advantage of a captive so... it... I am ashamed." Prime cast his gaze down once Megatron had retreated, quietly repentent by all appearances.

Megatron snorted in amusement. "Please, Prime! I was... I... I wanted it." An uncharacteristic blush rose to the warrior's cheeks, Megatron turning his helm away in the hopes of hiding it from his foe. "Well... this is certainly most uncomfortable... usually I prefer to recharge alone after an interface. Yet... here we are." 

Optimus echoed the words hollowly. "Here we are." After a long, awkward silence, he looked up, meeting the gaze of his old foe, former friend. "We could... we could put it all behind us you know. This could be a new beginning."

Megatron seemed to actually think on the offer, staying silent for a time but then the distant sounds of movement, of life drew both mechs attention.

Both mechs stared, too dumbstruck to move as the walls came crashing down, dust and debris filling the air, Starscream's exultant cry piercing through even the tumble of a minor landslide.

"Master! Thank the allspark we've found y- ew..." The seeker's shrill tone voice suddenly stalled. "What... what have you two... oh for pit's sake... Breakdown!"

The APC hurried to attention. "Y-yes commander!" 

"Help our glorious leader up. We're returning to base." The jet shot a repulsed glare at Megatron before sauntering off, muttering to himself. "Of all mechs... why him! Wasn't I good enough! Fragging old bucket of bolts... no taste!" Starscream's words trailed off as the seeker took his leave, foisting cleanup duties on other, far less important sparks.

"Optimus! I-" Arcee's words were cut off, the two wheeler unable to speak when she caught sight of the sticky mess coating both mechs. "I'll... be outside." Her voice dipped in a remorseful tone. "We called for a ceasefire. It's... it's fine." The femme strode from sight.

Optimus stared after her, feeling himself slip into a deep well of shame, unable to move, gaze shifting to the wall as Breakdown helped Megatron up, the warbird smirking at him before limping from sight. At least Optimus had that over the mech. Megatron wouldn't walk straight for days. The victory was a hollow one, nevertheless. Primus help him... this was no way to act.

 

 

 

Back on the Nemesis, Megatron was quick to reprimand his second in command. "Starscream! Why was I not retrieved earlier! Were you plotting something!" A huge talon pressed against the seeker's chestplate, Starscream quailing if only for a moment before slinking back, out of range, cooing pleasantly.

"Why... master... It seemed as though you were in no hurry. After all...." A snicker and a gesture to Megatron's sullied thighs was all it took to send the warlord storming from the room, shame burning his cheeks, anger nipping at his spark. To think that he'd let his mechs see him like that! He'd never live it down.

Starscream's smile only grew broader as he watched Megatron go. The old rustbucket was certainly sensitive about his recent romp. It would be sparkwarming to watch him wriggle and flinch at every single reminder. Starscream brought up an image on his HUD from when he'd first caught sight of the warbird, terrified optics wide and frightened, thighs stained and valve glistening delightfully. Mmm... he'd be keeping that one. The seeker chuckled again, looking forward to his next reandeavous with the warlord.


	5. Starscream 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream confronts Megatron over his recent actions

The warlord had been avoiding Starscream at all costs, avoiding everyone in fact. The Autobots were similarly quiet, no doubt busy coming to terms with their perfect leader's sexuality. Starscream snickered at the thought. He'd barely kept from bursting into laughter the second he'd seen those idealistic, ignorant Autobots catch a glimpse of their filthy, overheated leaders, caoted in each others fluids and thoroughly debauched. 

It was simply precious. The poor fools clearly didn't know how to deal with the information that their faultless leader was, in fact, a real mech with needs, desires and lusts. Starscream on the other hand knew exactly how to handle this new development. He prowled the halls outside of Megatron's chambers, finding every oppurtunity, every excuse and errand that would put him closer to the warlord. Eventually Megatron would emergy and then he'd strike.

 

 

Megatron shut off all communications but Soundwave's, resigned to lock himself away at least until he'd come to terms with his actions. Soundwave would contact him if it was necessary but otherwise the warbird trusted his communications officer to leave him be. Megatron needed time to think. At least, that had been the pretense.

As soon as the warbird had gotten behind closed doors however, he'd flung himself onto his berth, one servo buried between his thighs, the other finding his stiff, pulsing spike, springing free the second its protective panel drew back. Megatron groaned and bucked into his own servo as his scorching equipment found some relief. He didn't know what was happening to him! This heat cycle was only growing worse and worse and he'd be damned if he was going to drag himself through the Nemesis to go and question Knockout over his amped up interface protocols in his current state! 

It would go away on its own. Heat cycles always did, or so he'd heard. Megatron had never experienced the frustrating event before, the warbird putting the ferocity of this cycle down to a delayed and possibly glitched reaction. It would balance itself out over time. It had to. Megatron would lose his mind if it didn't.

Panting hard, the warlord thrust thick clawtips between his thighs desperately, reaching, curling to find that one sweet spot that Knockout had so expertly teased and coaxed into overload. The warbird moaned aloud at the memory, forcing his hips wide apart, kneeling on the berth and bending down with his faceplates against the cool metallic surface. His plating was on fire and the cold metal was soothing enough to produce a low whine from the mech's vocaliser.

Megatron reached, curled and rubbed, suddenly finding that small, light and teasing sensation wasn't nearly enough. He forced a third clawtip into his valve, then another, gasping at the pleasurable sensation of having his valve rim stretched, riled up sensors just inside the slick cavern singing in bliss as they were ground against roughly. 

Despite his better judgement, Megatorn soon found himself dredging up images of Optimus, innocent at first, then growing more and more tainted by the warlord's need. In his mind, the Autobot stretched him wide, taking him roughly, mercillesly. Megatron whimpered as his processor conjured up scenariors, one after another, where the warbird would take the Prime's spike, willingly or not. Optimus would be gentle at first, patient. It wouldn't last long however, stifled need breaking through restraint, desire banishing all thoughts but the need to overload.

The warbird droned out a long and shaky groan, thighs shaking almost imperceptibly as he wriggled his hips and forced his thighs wider to accomodate the phantom Prime behind him, forcing him down, filling him up, overloading inside him again and again. The warbird's moan turned to a needy wail and he thrust his clawtips in deep and hard, fingering himself desperately, forcing as much of his servo into his needy, dripping slit as he could. It wasn't enough, was never enough. 

Megatron hissed as he took a firm grasp on his spike. Like the rest of him, it was burning up, overheating and desperate. The warbird pinched and rubbed his head like Prime had, gutteral groan tugged from his lips at the sensation, the memory. Megatron shuttered his optics and focused on that image, the dominating, commanding Prime filling his thoughts, chasing away all shame and reason.

"Mhh... Prime..." The words felt good. The admission of desire easing some of the rampant need in his spark. Oh but if he could have Optimus here now... he'd be desperately grinding against the Autobot's panel, demanding relief, begging ardently for the Prime's spike. Another deep moan ripped through the Decepticon, followed by a full framed shudder as his overload caught him by surprise, thick, sticky release spurting into his servo at the barest touch to his spike, valve clamping down, rippling around the intruding digits. 

Megatron could only gasp and writhe, everything feeling too tight, too hot, only aching more and more as the need fuelling his frame crescendoed and redoubled, not dissipating in the least. The warbird could weep, he was so frustrated. Servos moving on their own, driven by overwhelming desire, Megatron leaned back and parted his thighs, abandoning his flagging spike, sitting on his wriggling, flexing servo and gasping through another overload that chased on the heels of his last so closely it ached.

 

 

 

Starscream was growing bored with waiting. His meagre patience had worn thin the second he imagined what Megatron was doing in there, locked away, soundproof walls doubtlessly echoing with cries of pleasure and frustration both. The seeker grinned when he thought about how desperate Megatron would be by now, fragging himself raw, burning up in need. 

Grabbing the next vehicon to pass by, Starscream simply hauled the mech towards Megatron's door, forcing a blaster into their back and barking the order. "Tell Megatron you need to speak with him. Now!"

The poor vehicon reacted with visible terror, looking about for an escape. He couldn't defy his commander but he knew Megatron would deactivate him on sight if he angered the fearsome lord. There was no way to win.

Seeing the turmoil running through the clone's processor, Starscream growled. "I'll make this simple for you. Use the intercom in the next 5 seconds or I will shoot." The blaster ground further into the hapless vehicon's frame, firmly pressed against plating in clear threat. "1. 2."

'Beep.' The intercom buzzed. "Lord Megatron! Excuse me for bothering you my lord but there is a matter of utmost urgency that requires your attention!" The drone bleated out in desperation. 

Starscream smiled. The poor thing was done for. Seconds passed, the vehicon seemingly almost having escaped death when Megatron's door slid open all at once, servos snapping out to effortlessly tear the mech's arm off, taking a firm hold and twisting, ripping, tossing the offending servo away without a thought.

Megatron didn't even bother to look at the broken, screaming thing on the floor, instead glaring at Starscream. "Would you like me to do the same to you?" Instead of dismissing the grinning seeker, Megatron sighed and bid him enter instead. "Get in. Quickly." 

Starscream hurried to obey, stepping over the fallen vehicon without a second thought, scampering into Megatron's chambers before the mech could change his mind. The door swung shut behind him and immediately, the smell assaulted Starscream.

"Pit..." The scent of Megatron's lubricants, of his arousal was overpowering, delectable and heady. Immediately the seeker heard his engine rev and his cooling fans click on, barely even aware of the actions. "My my... someone's been busy..." The seeker drawled out playfully, raspy tone lilting in gleeful mockery.

"Starscream." Megatron's deadpan glare was a warning. He invited the seeker in here because he knew that otherwise, the jet would not leave him be. Besides, Starscream could be useful in the berth. Maybe the seeker could drive away some of this frustrating heat.

Starscream chuckled and waved his servo dismissively. "I meant nothing by it, leader." The jet sauntered through the room, making a beeline for Megatron's berth much to the warlord's dismay.

"Star-" Too late. He'd quickly wiped down his frame at the intercom's activation, ordered his panels closed somehow, burning heat making the action almost painful. However, the warbird had neglected to wipe of the impressive puddle of condensation and lubricants that had pooled on the berth, Starscream zeroing in on the oversight immediately. Megatron fought to hold his helm up, shame nipping at his spark already.

"Oh... what's this... mm you certainly have been busy in here... haven't you, looord Megatron." The jet purred out the title, usually crooned in order to soothe the angry warlord. This time it was filled with mockery. Starscream inwardly purred in delight when he saw Megatron look away, abashed. Oh but that was just delightful! 

"No need to be shy master... we all have needs..." Sauntering back towards the warbird, swaying his hips enticingly as he went, Starscream daringly ran a servo over the mech's thighs and hips, edging dangerously close to scorching hot panels.

Megatron buckled immediately, much to his shame. "Uhhhhn! Mf..." He fought to control his outbursts, meek and pathetic noises of need and desire threatening to emerge as he ground against that servo. "Mf... yes?" The response had come out as painfully weak, questioning and yet somehow it felt good to admit to it, to wallow in his weakness, his shame and need.

"Mmh... that's a good pet. I want you to be honest with me Megatron." Starscream stepped closer, brushing against Megatron's frame, servo moving, caressing thick and delectable thighs, edging closer to heated panels as he purred out the question, raspy tone alight with cruel promise. "Do you want me..?" 

Megatron groaned aloud, barely keeping control of his frame let alone his vocaliser, knees threatening to buckle, frame shivering and begging for the seeker's touch. "Yes... frag, yes!" 

Starscream smiled, sachharine sweetness dripping from the seeker as he cooed happily. "Such a good mech... on the berth with you then." Inwardly, Starscream soaked in his own self-satisfaction. He'd never dreamed of having Megatron at his mercy like this!

"Mmh..." Megatron stumbled towards the berth, more or less collapsing against the sullied surface, wet with his own quickly cooling fluids. The warbird didn't care, thoughts focused only on Starscream now. He'd tried to fight, tried to hold out but the heat would not abate. 

"I'm going to try something new... servos up." Megatron quickly obeyed, figuring the jet wanted to restrain him like last time. In his current state, Megatron wasn't capable of arguing, obligingly going along with whatever the seeker wanted so long as he'd get his relief in the end.

"Good... good." Servos snapped into place, heavy energon cuffs securing them to the top of the massive berth. Another two 'clicks' sounded and the warbird's ankles were similarly cuffed. "There now... all open and receptive for me... perfect..." The jet gave Megatron's spike a rewarding stroke, teasing the tip, pumping the stained and dripping chord until it stood proudly again, hard and eager. "Mm... good pet. Nice and hard for me."

Megatron bucked into the touch, groaning at every word that should have come as an insult. Instead it was liquid pleasure over his spark, his frame. He suddenly craved Starscream's approval, his praise like nothing he'd ever felt before. Simlpy having the jet purr pleased approval in his audials was like an overload all of its own, dripping with pleasure, satisfying and perfect, "Mhh... yes..." he gasped breathlessly.

Starscream smirked, looking down at the helpless warbird before him. Megatron would do whatever he wanted at this point, the power he held over his lord utterly intoxicating. "This... my lord is what's called a probe. You are going to lay perfectly still for me and I am going to slowly insert it into your spike. Understand?"

Normally that sort of depraved and extreme act would have set alarm bells to ringing in the warrior's processor but all Megatron could focus on was the seeker's servos on his frame, the low purr in his voice, promising pleasure, promising reward. "Nh... yesss..." Megatron rolled his hips, gasping and groaning happily when Starscream rewarded him with another firm stroke. "Ahh! Mmm..."

"Mm... very good Megatron... now... stay still for me." The seeker quickly doused the thin, ribbed rod in lubricants, nudging the toy's head against the tip of Megatron's impressive shaft. The warbird rutted against it desperately, given a quick slap by the seeker.

"I said stay still!" Starscream held his next intake as he waited. He wasn't sure if he'd gone too far. If the warbird would retaliate or not. Thankfully, Megatron had been cowed into obedience rather than reacting with anger. Relieved, Starscream moved on, nudging the toy's head against his leader's spike, teasing the tiny little opening atop Megatron's chord in dark promise. 

"That's it... stay nice and still... yes... just like that... such a good pet." The praise drew a breathy gasp from his lord and Starscream grinned. He wrapped his spare servo around the monstrous spike before him, squeezing, pumping slowly, coaxing Megatron into blissful surrender. "Good mech..." 

After a few firm pumps, Starscream eased off, teasing and squeezing the thick spike, pressing the textured, long shaft against the tiny slit with an ounce more pressure. Instantly, the opening stretched just enough for Starscream to slip just the tip of the metallic rod inside. 

Megatron gasped and fought to remain still, optics wide and staring as they looked down to watch Starscream work. The warbird panted as he watched, fascinated as his spike engulfed the thin rod inch by inch, rich and potent pleasure rippling through his member as it was stuffed full. "Ahn... nh... mh..." 

Soon the warbird was forced to look away, throwing his helm back in a confronting amalgamation of pain and bliss as the last length of the rod was pressed deep inside of him, nudging against inner sensors, stuffing his chord full. Megatron groaned and flexed his thighs, that simple motion enough to jolt his spike into blaring sensation, cables tensing and tingling, the pulse running through his thighs, his hips, jolting through his erect spike. "Ahn! Ahhh...haaah... ff-frag!" 

Starscream let out a pleased purr. "Enjoying yourself master? I thought you might like this..." The jet gave his spike a firm squeeze, chuckling as Megatron thrashed on the berth. "I should frag you... give that needy chord the pleasure it craves and fuck you until you beg for overload."

Megatron groaned noisily at the teasing words, bucking, writhing, gasping in blind and clueless need. "Mhh.. I need... need... frag it... Starscream!" The seeker's designation was bleated out in pure desperation, no force behind the words, no threat. Megatron was reduced to begging for relief.

"Mhh... you look so good like that... spread out for me... desperate... eager... shall I indulge you then, pet?"

Megatron bit back the insult dangling on the tip of his glossa, born of frsutrated denial. He know Starscream well enough to realise that if he let himself get too worked up, demanded the overload he craved, he'd wind up paying for it. Usually the jet made every attempt to misinterpret his orders, to work in snide remarks or simply undermine him. This time however, the warlord was at the seeker's mercy. So rather than berate him for stalling, Megatron nodded, stuttering a breathless. "Yes... please," hoping the jet would be merciful for once in his life.

Starscream could have squealed in delight, it was so delicious to see his master like this. So vulnerable, so... docile. It was perfect. "Mhh... very well. Stay still then." The seeker clambered atop the berth, spreading his thin, shapely thighs and baring his valve for Megatron. 

The scent immediately assaulted Megatron and the warbird groaned needily, wriggling, rutting into the air hopelessly.

"Calm yourself pet... you'll soon have your pleasure." Starscream made sure to draw out every torturous touch, bringing a servo down to rest against the big mech's plating, petting away in soothing pleasure. He let his hips sink down just far enough for the tip of Megatron's stuffed chord to grind against his moistened valve, slick with desire and pleasure. "Mhh.. do you want me? Tell me how much you want me..." Starscream cooed in the warrior's audial.

It was enough to drive Megatron mad! His spike ached, his array was on fire, his frame was overheating and all he could think of was how sweet, how perfect that tight little valve would feel around his spike, so stiff and needy. "Yes! Primus... frag it, yes! Just-do it! Pl-ease!" His vocaliser cracked in desperation.

Starscream smiled and finally obliged him, sinking down, burying the warrior's spike in one single motion. "Ohhh! Mmm.. ah... Mmmegatron..." Starscream moaned at the pleasure of having his valve stretched and stuffed all at once, burning and singing delightfully as the deepest parts of him were filled and ground against. 

Beneath him, Megatron writhed and sobbed. "Star! Starscr-ahhhn! Mh... haaahh-" The warrior clenched his servos uselessly, screwing his optics shut and forcing his spike in deeply, hips straining, frame shaking minutely. The probe in his spike, Starscream's slick perfect little valve wrapped around him... it felt heavenly. Megatron's spike was treated to sensations so potent and spark stalling he felt he might offline then and there. Every sensor was alight, sizzling in burning feedback, the sensation was so strong. 

Starscream hummed in pleasure, ignoring the warlord's cries and starting to roll his hips in small circles. "Mhh.. does that feel good, pet?" 

Megatron sobbed a desperate and needy, "Yess! Yes, pit yes! Don't-don't st-op please!" He tugged against his restraints, longing to grasp the beautiful seeker before him.

Starscream lifted his hips high, moving in tiny circles that did nothing but drive the babbling, panting warbird beneath him to desperate cries for mercy before finally sinking down. Starscream mewled in delight and Megatron stuttered a gutteral, spark deep moan.

"Mhh.. such a nice filling chord my pet... so good..." 

Megatron shuddered at the praise, the pleasure. Everything felt tight and hot, too much sensation assaulting his sensornet, too much pleasure washing over him that the warbird's optics rolled back and Megatron fell to simply babbling in lost and addled cries. "Mh! Ye-es! Ahh... mhhh...hot! Hot... ahh... fffffrag! Ahhhnn!"

Starscream started to pick up the pace, reaching down and tugging at his own nub, pinching the tender little bead as he ground down on Megatron's chord. The turgid length felt divine against his sensors, the sounding rod's tip a pleasant little addition that stimulated his deepest nodes. "Mhhh... so good Megatron..." 

That got another breathless groan from the warbird and Starscream finally started to chase his own need in earnest, pinching his nub, grinding down as he lifted himself and sank down on Megatron's chord again and again, jolts of pleasure arcing through his array, sending blissful tendrils of sensation through his struts all the way to his clawtips. His wings fluttered and he ground down hard, settling into a firm rolling motion back and forth that not only stimulated his clit-mouse but forced Megatron's spike deep into his valve, grinding agianst his cieling node, the rod's bulbous tip mercilessly hammering deeply buried sensors in unremitting bliss.

"Ohhh! Frag... Megatron... mmm..." Starscream cooed in pleasure when he finally overloaded, forcing himself down hard on Megatron's straining length, ramming that delectable rod against his sensitive cieling node in desperation. "Ahhn! Mmm... fraaaaag...." 

Careless for Megatron's pleasure, Starscream rode out his overload in a dazed and pleasured haze, valve gripping Megatron's spike hard, milking the aching chord only for release to be denied. The stiff rod buried within would force Megatron to linger at the edge of overload, riled up and breathless, granted blissful pleasure but unable to finally topple into release.

The jet let those thoughts fill his processor as he rutted against Megatron, drinking in the warrior's helplessness, luxuriating in the potent pleasure filling his frame. He finally ground down hard once more, valve rippling and tensing before going lax, lazy, slow rolls of his hips sending a deep, saitsfying pleasure through sensitised nodes. "Ahn... mmm... such a good pet. Ohhh... that was nice."

Starscream finally looked down, resetting his optics to see a panting, shivering Megatron below him, servos clenched, fanged maw wide and gaspimg. His frame trembled delightfully and Starscream cooed at the sight. "Oh...my poor pet. Let me help you." With a wicked grin, Starscream hauled himself up, venting hard after the powerful overload, taking a moment to catch his breath before finally reaching out, grasping the warm and lubricant soaked tip of the shaft filling Megatron's spike.

The jet took a firm hold of it, pushing the rod down and watching as Megatron writhed in his bonds. "Mmm... you like that?" He pushed a little harder, twisting and pressing the rod deeper. Megatron squealed, the noise foreign and audial piercing, laced with desperation and need.

"Star-please! Ple-ease!"

Starscream licked his lips, leaning down to get a taste of the warrior's lubricants. He lapped at the very edges of Megatron's valve, tingling and teasing the clenching, needy slit as he toyed with the rod. Drawing back, Starscream tugged the toy free a measure, only to send it straight back in with a firm thrust. Megatron howled and Starscream grinned, the seeker upping the pace until he was firmly fucking Megatron's spike with the toy.

"Such a filthy thing... look how you love it... love having your spike stuffed and stretched. Mm... I bet you'd love to get off right now, woudln't you?"

Megatron sobbed, beside himself with need. He'd wanted Starscream to help ease the burn but so far the seeker had only made everything far more agonising! He felt as though his processor or his spark would burst, unsure of which one would give out first but knowing he was on a knife's edge of sanity. "PLEASE! Star! Starscream! Pleeeeaaase!"

Finally forcing Megatron into a corner, Starscream offered him a lifeline. "Call me master..."

Megatron did. He happily threw away all restraint, all doubts and hurried to do whatever it was this gorgeous seeker asked of him, if only it meant being granted relief. "Yes! Yes, master! Please!"

Finally, the rod filling Megatron's spike was forced in deeply, Starscream teasing the warlord's head with a talon, leaning down to lick at the engorged, throbbing length before pulling the rod free in one smooth motion.

Megatron roared, shaking and throwing his helm back in spark deep relief, rutting into the air as transfluids spattered in hot pulses from the tip of his tormented spike. When He felt a clawed servo wrap around his chord and squeeze, Megatron sobbed, fresh coolant tears filling his optics, overload so powerful that it forced his optics offline ripping through his frame. 

Pressure, so intense, so pleasureable built in his array then spread through his frame, that one perfect moment of release enough to stall Megatron's engine. It whirred back to life a moment later, Megatron taking a deep, ragged invent along with it, panting hard, moaning, bucking mindlessly. 

Starscream watched the result of his work with a pleased smile, quickly drawing back, moving to collect a few things from subspace while Megatron came down form his dizzying high.

 

 

The warlord groaned, frame aching, charge still wracking his systems. He reset his optics and onlined them to the sight of... "What..." 

Starscream stood nearby, heavy whip in one servo, toying with a strange metallic ring. The jet made no move, apparently waiting for Megatron. The warlord took deep cooling invents until his systems finally started to level out, still aching for more, still desperate for relief but the edge finally taken off his unbearable heat. His valve twitched at the sight of Starscream, eager for its turn as well.

Finally, Starscream came to Megatron, taking advantage of the warrior's daze to slip a large collar around the mech's neck. "Hm... yes. A perfect fit." The jet smiled and Megatron stared dumbly. What was happening? "Come."

A sudden pressure on his neck cables took Megatron by surprise. Something was digging into his plating, cold and sharp and the warrior realised there was some sort of wicked mechanism equipped to the thing around his neck, activated as Starscream tugged on the chain attached to it. Realising his other restraints had been removed, he moved quickly, easing the pain as the pressure on his neck tapered off. By the time he was next to Starscream the metallic spikes retracted completely and Megatron was left to wonder what had happened. He didn't have much time, ordered to turn and rest his mid section on the berth. Not having the energy to fight, to question, Megatron did as he was ordered, turning and pressing his chest against the berth, frowning at the smears of lubricants that were rubbed onto his plating, smears of mingled fluids staring him in the optics.

"Now... stay still, pet." A clawed servo moved to stroke Megatron's aft and the warlord gasped, wriggling his hips, tilting them back greedily, wantonly. Then, a pain lashed out, stinging and sudden.

"Ahh! Wh.."

"Didn't I tell you not to move..." The jet huffed, moving to attach Megatron's cuffs. He bound the warbird's wrists to a chain and threaded it through a sturdy bar at the back of the warlord's berth, forcing Megatron to memain in place. His ankles were quickly bound in stasis cuffs, making any sort of quick movement impossible. Megatron would be able to wriggle about but would not be able to move his pedes from his spot. 

"We've yet to address your recent... endeavours. Optimus Prime? Really? What sort of Decepticon are you?" The jet sneered, watching as Megatron wilted at his words. Oh, he was enjoying this.

"I don't hear any answers pet... you have until the count of three to respond before I give your hide a sound tanning." 

Megatron shivered at the threat, still, choosing to obey, to respond if it meant he'd be granted more pleasure. So far, the single overload he'd gotten out of Starscream had been far better than anyhting he could manage with his own servos, far more satisfying. "Not... not your concern."

Another stinging lash, this time followed by the stabbing pressure of the tiny blades at his throat, choking, digging down, threatening to spill energon as Starscream yanked on the leash clipped to his collar. "Ghah! Hhk-"

"Such arrogance... but there is no covering your shame, no denying what depths you've sunk to. Isn't that right...?" Starscream tugged at the collar a little harder, the purpose desinged leash going taut and forcing the collar's spikes to dig further into the captive warbird. 

"Nhhh! Haaa-" Megatron whined as he felt warm energon dribble from puncture wounds, unable to speak for fear of even that causing the blades to sink in further. The pain was tolerable but Megatron had no idea how deadly the collar might be. If it happened to sever his main energon line there was the possibility that he might bleed out.

He pressed his aft up instead of arguing, silently pleading for respite. All at once the pain disappeared, Megatron scarcely grabbing a single invent before the whip lashed out again. With his aft tilted up and his valve bared, the whip lashed out over his inner thighs and rounded behind, stinging, scoring plating. Megatron hissed and cried out in pain.

"Filthy thing! Chasing after spike. I know what you got up to with Knockout and Breakdown but... the Prime? Shameless... shameless slut of a mech... you're not fit to lead are you?" The seeker set down the whip, instead taking a servo to Megatron's stinging aft, spanking the rounded metal time and again. 

Megatron whimpered and shifted his thighs, unsure whether to pull away or press into the touch. Starscream's spare servo grasped his thigh, kneading it delightfully, setting off oversensitive wires and dragging Megatron's charge up again. He pressed his thighs together, groaning when Starscream rubbed the stinging mark left behind by the whip. He mewled and tilted his aft up again, begging for more. 

"Mmm... shameless thing. So greedy for spike aren't you?" 

The warlord's helm sank at that. Despite his efforts to put his own feelings aside, he was deeply ashamed of his actions. He should have offlined the Prime in that cave-in, not ridden his spike like a two credit pleasure drone. Starscream tugged the collar, choking an admission out of him. "Y-yes..." Energon rose to his cheeks and Megatron hid his helm. 

"Say it louder.... tell me what you are..." The seeker dripped with arousal, the potent pleasure of watching his lord, meek and begging, obeying his every command, driving him wild with desire. "Say it..."

Megatron shook his helm, frantically denying the truth, his words coming out quiet and pleading. "no... no I'm not-khhh!" The chain went taut again and Megatron's words died in his vocaliser.

Starscream yanked the chain firmly, rolling his hips forward and letting his spike spring free. He'd been holding back, keeping the substantial chord locked away until Megatron earned it. Well... maybe some incentive would help break the big mech. "Oh... such a liar you are my pet..." His heated length rubbed against the warrior's thighs and aft, teasing and tormenting. "I know you want it..."

Megatron whined and tried to press back, his array leaking lubricants, valve clenching and flexing in desperation. Oh he wanted it. He wanted Starscream desperately but he couldn't bring himself to say it... to say the shameful things jet wanted to hear... It was becoming harder and harder to resist however with that collar tugging tightly against his neck cabling, scrpaing and digging in painfully, sending a chill of terror through the warlord's backstrut that melded into deep desire. Then there was that delectable spike teasing his rump so cruelly. Frag it... he wanted, no needed it! Consequences be damned!

"Please master! P-please frag your needy little sl-ut!" He choked on the word but forced it out anyway, whining before making himself continue. "Frag me... please... please I'm... it's... so hot! Need you! Master!" The warbird whimpered and pressed his aft out pleadingly, chanting his desperate pleas over and over, desperation making his willpower brittle and weak.

"Ohhh.... such a good pet. So honest... I think you deserve a reward for that..." Starscream held Megatron in place firmly, the collar and restraints keeping him right where he wanted him before roughly thrusting in to the warbird's squelching heat. "Nnhhh... ohhhh Megatron... such a filthy, eager valve... all wet... dripping for me... mmmh."

Megatron roared and threw his helm back, babbling pleas and thanks all at once, garbled cries of bliss leaving his lips along with demands for more, harder, faster!

"Uh uh... you're not the one in control here... remember...?" 

Megatron whined in desperation and nodded, scarcely able to vent let alone speak. He hoped that simple gesture would get the message across, shaking as he forced himself to remain still, merely clenching needily around Starscream's spike, his frame trying to force the slim member deeper inside of him. 

"Naughty thing... mmm..... do you promise to behave? If you can't I might just have to leave you like this..." Starscream's cruelty knew no bound. He teased at the warrior's dripping folds as he spoke, rubbing a thumb over the warbird's lips and pinching them roughly. "Maybe some of the drones might take pity on you and give you the frag you so desperately crave... would you like that? I think you'd beg for any spike right about now... wouldn't you, Megatron?" The dark purr sent white hot pleasure and arousal shooting through Megatron's backstrut, arcing out to his struts and setting his valve on fire.

The warlord caved utterly, forcing his vocaliser to work, babbling agreement, promises, pleas, anything to get the seeker to fuck him! "YES! Yes y-you're right master! Please fuck me, sir! Please! I-I'll behave! I'll stay still master! So-o ple-eassse!"

Starscream cooed in delight, rolling his hips in small circles, pleased to see that Megatron was indeed behaving as promised. The warframe shuddered and groaned, whimpered and clawed at the air but he didn't try to move. He stayed right where he was, flat against the berth, servos palm down and hips resting against chill metal. "Such a well behaved little slut... mm... I'll give you what you want then."

The seeker jerked his hips forward suddenly, forcing himself deep into Megatron's heat and moaning sweetly at the tight, slick heat that hugged his length. "Ohh... that's nice... mmmf-" He bit his lip and rolled his hips again, drawing back from the babbling, mewling and utterly broken mech below only to force himself in deeply yet again, spearing the warbird's valve in one quick thrust. 

"Mh... ohhh Megatron... such a tight frag... such a...mmmf- good pet..." His servo reached out to stroke the warbird's hips and Megatron shuddered powerfully, arching and howling in bliss.

Megatron was lost in utter rapture, the aching, searing heat in his valve finally, blissfuly met with perfect pleasure, pounding hot pressure that left him senseless and greedily chasing every bit of pleasure he could get his servos on. The heat only seemed to grow but the tension built with it, churning and riling in a mounting overload that Megatron knew would leave him strutless. He was close already. Starscream slid in and out in at slow, his pace tormenting yet utterly perfect, bringing overheated sensors to life, sending feedback sizzling through the warbird's sensors. His valve scorched, overheated, needy, clenching in desperation. 

"Please... please master! Let... let me..."

Starscream cackled in amusement, drawing back to run the tip of his chord over Megatron's leaking slit, peering down at the way the opening flexed in greedy desire. A rough slap drew a yelp from the mech below and Megatron turned to look at his seeker, blushing and panting, begging with his optics. "Ah... so sweet... so very sweet... mh..." He ran a clawtip through some of the messy fluids pooling beneath Megatron's valve, tracing it over the mech's delightfully curvaceous rump and in a indulgent claim. "Mh... my sweet pet... you have been obedient I suppose..." 

With that the seeker allowed his length to slide in a fraction, grazing just the first fraction of Megatron's valve, grinding against clenching, tight walls in torment. 

"Ohhh please! Pl-please! Star-master! I can't-" He tried to keep still, tried to obey his master but it was too much! The torment was too great, pleasure and blissful release held just out of reach and dangled cruelly before him in temptation. Megatron thrust his hips back before Starscream could move, impaling himself on the jet's chord and groaning in sparkfelt relief. "Ohhh! Ma-mas-hnnn." The warrior groaned as he felt his array tighten, the pressure in the pit of his tank built. He was almost there! Almost! One more thrust and-

"What... was that?" 

Starscream's icy tone sent chills down Megatron's spinal strut and the warbird was abruptly afraid, his own needy desire pleading in his core, forcing the words from his lips before he could stop himself. "Please! Master! I-I can't pllleeeease... it hurts... it won't stop! Please frag me... please..." A low and drawn out whine punctuated the words.

Starscream paused to deliberate, running a teasing servo over the warlord's sloppy valve entrace as he mused. "Hm... did I not tell you... in no unspecific terms... to stay still for me? I will be the one in control here... not YOU! You filthy little slave... you will take whatever pleasure I give you and be glad for it!" His servo snaked out to grasp the warlord's spike, squeezing and twisting viciously and Megatron howled. "Say it!"

The warbird babbled his pleading apologies, his sparkfelt promises of obedience until the pressure finally tapered off, left rutting against the seeker's servo until Starscream rumbled in threat. At that noise, Megatron ceased his desperate motions, whimpering as he forced himself to remain still. He pressed against the berth, daring only to wiggle his aft in temptation for the seeker above. "Please..." He whispered, barely audible over the roar of his own cooling fans. 

Starscream cooed in approval, reaching out to pet the warird's plating, tapered digits trailing down Megatron's spinal strut and drawing little bursts of built up charge as they went. The poor warbird was almost sparking in need, overheating and at sanity's edge. He supposed he should finally indulge the old fool. "Well then.... as long as you have learned your lesson..."

Megatron shamelessly hurried to assure him. "Yes master! Yes, yes I understand! Please!" His hips wriggled to and fro again, valve flexing as a tiny dribble of lubricant visibly pooled in the opening, dripping free and running down the inside of the warrior's thigh, glistening in the light.

"Mmm.... very well... you may have your reward then. But don't overload until I allow it!" Starscream gave the warmonger's spike another vicious squeeze as he spoke, making sure his threat was well heard before he finally moved, allowing the tip of his chord, currently nudged up against quivering folds, to press into the tight gap. He drove inwards, slowly, teasingly until Megatron let loose and sobbed a final, desperate plea, only then giving in and thrusting the last length of his spike into that welcoming heat. 

"Hhhnnng! Ahhh! Haaa..." Megatron groaned and forced himself to remain still, clenching his valve instead, desperaetly trying to coax Starscream deeper, shocked to stillness when he heard Starscream's voice.

"Uhn... Megatron... you feel so good clenching around me... needy little slut aren't you?" The seeker gave his lord's aft a firm slap, grinning when Megatron only whined a little louder, clenching down hard and whimpering in need. "Ahnn... such a good slut for me..." The jet rolled his hips, thrusting his spike home in one hard, swift motion and drawing a lovely cry of bliss from his lord. 

"Mhhh....that's it... take it like the whore mech you are... filthy, Autobot loving old pervert! I bet you'd love to suck the Prime's spike right now, wouldn't you?" The seeker's own engine roared, cooling fins whirring as he rutted against his lord, raking claws down Megatron's back and moaning at the timid little cry it produced. "Ohhh... so sweet... did you make those noises for your little Prime?" Starscream cackled and pulled back, only to bring a punishing servo down on his leader's valve, slapping hard and firm. 

Megatron whimpered and bit back his cry, coolant tears threatening to drip down from his optics. The warbird blamed the sting but truly, the humiliation of it all was eating at him. Starscream was right. He was filthy, without restraint. He wasn't worthy to lead anyone. It was almost a relief when the seeker next spoke.

"Tell me... do you think you can still lead us... lead the Decepticons? Even with the knowledge that, given the oppurtunity, you will pounce on the first spike to come along, the first dick waved in your visual feed? Hm? Filthy, filthy slut!" Starscream delivered anotehr, far more severe blow, slapping the warmonger's valve hard and earnign a keening, sobbing cry in response. A wicked desire tore through his lines at that sound and Starscream lost himself to his own desire, teasing motions abandoned as with one forceful thrust, he impaled his lord's valve, sinking in to the warlord's heat and rolling, wriggling his hips to hit every sensor node.

Megatron's optics rolled back in overwhelming pleasure, the warbird garbling pleas to be allowed to move, allowed to overload. "Ple-ease Star- St- let me! Let- fraaaag.... PLEASE!" The warmonger shivered, lip plates quivering as he tried to hold himself together, seconds away from pleading sobs. Oh frag just let him overload! Please, please, please!

Starscream groaned and rolled his hips slowly, enjoying the tight heat, the snug embrace of his lord's heat before finally moving, pulling back in one swift motion and spearing the warlord again, crying out an order, a command for Megatron to call his name, beg for the privelege of overload.

Megatron helplessly danced to the tune of Starscream's song, howling in bliss, pleading, begging, mewling his pleasure and asking only for the relief of oveload. 

"Mmmh... say it you slut... tell me how much you want it...need it..." Sharp talons slid down over the warrior's frame once more, dragging across heavy plating with a dreadful screech, tearing at seams and drawing energon, forcing a delightful whimper from the once proud mech.

"Yes! Please let me... let me cum! Fraggit...Star... master! Let your slut cum!" 

The rich, deep baritone of Megatron's vocals glided like silk over Starscream's audials and the seeker was helpless to resist any longer. He threw away restraint, groaning loudly as he pulled back and slammed into the warrior's heat, pounded that tight little valve until Megatron screamed and then finally barked the command for Megatron to, "Cum for me you slut!" 

A servo raked down Megatron's side as the warrior tensed and clamped down, the pressure, the command and degradation in Starscream's vocals all culminating into the rich, rewarding shock of overload that grasped his frame and squeezed, sending his sensors into overdrive, his vocals into hoarse cries of blissful relief and his struts into helpless fits and shivering ecstasy. Megatron's intake slacked, his glossa lolling and lips curling in a vacant, pleasured smile. He groaned his own pleasure as Starsream rutted against him, calipers squeezing, massaging the seeker's spike as it pounded him ruthlessly. Cycling down and milking the jet's chord, Megatron's valve rippled in pure delight, the warlord howling his release as finally, finally he felt the welcome rush of overload. 

Restraint disappeared, desire and need all that mattered as Megatron sang his praise to the heavens, thanking Primus, praising Starscream's name as the jet thrust into him again and again, slamming against his cieling node, grinding against constricting mesh walls and forcing Megatron to fall, strutless against the berth, faceplates sinkning into a puddle of his own fluids, glossa lolling. He felt the spatter of his own fluids against the berth, spike spurting rush after rush of transfluids, each pulse tearing a cry of ardent pleasure from the once proud warrior. Megatron stared blankly ahead as the jet chased his own pleasure, lingering in utter bliss, feeling his charge climbing again all too quickly and scarcely feeling a shred of regret as he begged Starscream to frag him harder.

The jet panted as he moved, thrusting into the welcoming heat before him, clenchign his dentals through Megatron's first overload and waiting, holding himself back until the warrior pleaded for more. Finally, Starscream rutted mindlessly into the warrior, ripping screams of ecstasy from his leader's lips as he chased his own blistering hot pleasure. The tight pressure in his tank built, finally erupting in a heady wave of ecstasy as he forced his hips againt Megatron with one final, firm slam, spilling his fluids and groaning in bliss the whole while. Megatron clenched and squeezed around him, still riding out the last waves of his own overload, whimpering and writhing beneath him.

The moment was perfect. Hot, heavy arousal coalescing into this one, glorious second of bliss. Megatron was bent over before him, whimpering and spread, filled with Starscream's own release and that very thought set a rich, potent pleasure to burning in the seeker's spark. He ground against Megatron's aft, enjoying the last fleeting tendrils of pleasure, the warm bliss of Megatron's valve squeezing around him before finally pulling out. 

Hot release dripped from the warlord's stretched and aching slit, running down his thighs, staining the berth beneath but Megatron couldn't bring himself to care. He mumbled in blissed ot pleasure, sinking gratefully against the berth and leaving his woes behind, luxuriating in the lingering pleasure, the haze of overload making all his problems, all his woes seem far away, unimportant right now. It was onyl when Starscream moved that reality came toppling back, descending on him like a crushing weight and making Megatron simply press himself to the berth, longing for more of that simple pleasure.

Starscream for his part watched in avid interest, far more perceptive now that his own desire had been sated. Megatron was a mess, strutless and bared for any mech to take, still receptive and greedy for more. Oh, what a delight it would be to order every one of the drones in here one by one... to stand before them and order them, as their supreme leader, to frag Megatron senseless. The fantasy sent a fresh thrill of desire through Starscream and the jet purred, moving to cup the supple curve of Megatron's aft and giving it a rough squeeze. The warlord whimpered in response, still lost in his own world of pleasure, dead to the world for all intents and purposes. 

Well... wasn't that just convenient... If Starscream could keep Megatron like this...then...then... A whole world of possibilities opened up before the seeker. Megatron lay at his pedes, a lustful and easily manipulated pet. His army would follow Starscream's every command, the jet no longer needing to fight Megatron every step of the way, to convince the tired old fool of the value of strategy. No... Starscream could have it all.... and he would win! He knew he would! He understood tactics! He understood the value of a well crafted strategy and he would use each of his mechs in whatever manner suited their skills, their position. The seeker let his mind wander, envisioning a bright future without Megatron at its forefront, all the while kneading the warbird's aft, only driving Megatron's heat higher again.

Megatron was helpless to resist him, keening and bobbing his aft up, silently begging for more. The jet still wasn't sure what oppurtunity he'd been granted, whether Megatron's mind would return or linger in the recessed depths of his processor, buried by the desires of the frame. Either way teh jet decided it was worth the risk. He would would be sure to make good use of this chance, to grasp the chance at leadership that he felt he was destined for. Soon, every mech here would recognise their true leader! Megatron was little more than a needy whore begging to be used and Starscream would do his damnest to make sure it stayed that way. He commed Dreadwing, requesting the flyer's presence immediately.

"Lord Megatron had need of your.... talents. Do not disappoint." Starscream left it at that, keeping Megatron interested with a few teasing touches until Dreadwing arrived, shutting the large flyer in with Megatron once he'd arrived. There... now that was dealt with the jet could make his way to the command deck, grinning all the while. Even Soundwave couldn't stand in his way. Megatron was... indisposed... and no one would be game to challenge that claim, not when it meant storming into the volatile mech's chambers and invading his privacy. No mech there was fool enough for that. Even Soundwave dutifully followed the seeker's commands, no doubt thinkng Megatron could come and reclaim his position before the cycle was out. There was no way Starscream would let that happen however.


	6. Dreadwing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long guys... I have had an endless stream of visitors that screwed up all my plans for setting time aside to write.

Megatron hissed and writhed on the berth. Frag it all! He had finally chased some of the heat away, dispersed some of this wretched charge only to have Starscream rile him up all over again... those delightful, grasping servos roving all over his frame.... touching... exploring... kneading soft plating. The warlord keened and wriggled in place, still bound helplessly to the berth. Realisation was only beginning to sink in now that those tormenting touches had stopped. He'd not heard a word from the proud seeker for long moments and when he realised the strangeness of that fact, Megatron abruptly felt perturbed. Had he been left here, abandoned... like this? Filthy and bared, open and ready for the taking... 

The warlord listened intently, eventually calling out, discovering that indeed, no one was there. He waited as long as he could stand, soon opening his comm. channel in frustration. He'd nearly sent a message off to Soundwave, stopping himself before he could ping the mech however. Soundwave had seen him in the throes of need, had helped him when his desire got the better of him. But this...? He was ashamed to meet his TIC's gaze. He'd fragged the Prime. Not only that but he'd allowed Starscream...no... welcomed the seeker... into his berth. He'd lain there and begged for it all. Shame weighed on the warlord's spark as he tested his bindings yet again, failing to budge the secure chains. The countless overloads since he'd hidden himself away in his quarters had left him almost limp, strutless and exhausted. There was no way for him to free himself without the help of another. Slowly resigning himself to the humiliation, Megatron prepared to contact Soundwave, only stopping at a quiet and questioning voice from somewhere behind him.

"My...lord..?"

Megatron's spark stalled. Dreadwing stood at the doorframe where Starscream had left him, gaping. Eventually Dreadwing's mind finally ticked over, realisation sinking in. What had Starscream done to his master to leave him in such a state! Had he been drugged, coerced, manipulated? This wrongdoing against his master would not stand and Dreadwing vowed to make the seeker pay for it once he'd freed Megatron. He'd track Starscream down and demand to know why the jet had tricked not only him but obviously his master as well! He'd demand to know why he had led him here in some cruel trick to pervade his lord's privacy, diminish his master's pride! 

Despite Dreadwing's abundance of very loyal, very respectful thoughts, the flyer had yet to move, frozen in place. He was entranced, intoxicated by the sight of his master, open and vulnerable, utterly enticing. Dreadwing's mind told him to move yet his body... his body wouldn't budge. He stood there for a time, simply watching, drinking in the sight. Uneasy silence filled the air along with the potent scent of lust and arousal. Finally, Megatron shivered in his bindings enough to cause his chains to rattle, the sound enough to startle Dreadwing into action.

"My lord! Who has done this to you!" He stormed across the room, ignoring how foolish his question was, (the answer was obvious, after all) too desperate to help his master to notice the way Megatron's field roiled with need. Once he was close enough he felt the thrashing whip of the warbird's field against his own, the desperate, clawing arousal washing over Dreadwing with enough force to knock the wind from him. Dreadwing faltered, gasping for breath, his own charge suddenly skyrocketing as he looked at the way his lord's frame glistened in the light, beading with condensation, trembling lightly and never ceasing to move. Megatron brushed his thighs together, shuffled his hips and rocked against the berth, grinding against it like a mindless mechanimal in the throes of heat.

"Master..."

Megatron hid his helm, finally speaking, barking out a command that lacked any and all force. "Don't! Don't... call me that..." It turned to a whisper, a quiet plea. Megatron didn't want to be reminded of his station right now, didn't want to be reminded of how far he'd fallen. He could only think of the heat, the need seeping into his frame, boiling hotter and hotter without respite. "Dread.. Dreadwing... I need..." He couldn't say it. His vocals stuttered and gave out as he heard a rush of motion behind him.

Dreadwing rushed to his lord's aid, quickly deactivating the cuffs and removing the restraints keeping his master in place, wrapping an arm around his lord's waist and using his own frame to hoist Megatron up, frowning at the way his master simply allowed his frame to be manipulated, as if he held no will of his own. 

"Master, we need to get you to a medic! Clearly you are not well! I will contact Knockout immediately and-" The sudden rush of heat as Megatron's lips met his own stalled the big mech's engine momentarily, Dreadwing breathless and dumbfounded as Megatron curled into his grasp. Cracked lips brushed against his own, warm and heavy exvents drifting over his plating and raising his charge to a shameful peak.

Dreadwing blinked and pulled away from the addled mech, blurting out in protest. "Master! This is not- we shouldn't be-" Megatron only smiled in return, his gaze distant and hazy, his frame scorching hot to the touch.

"Do not contact anyone..." Megatron purred, exalting in the oppurtunity to touch, to feel another mech's frame against his own. Starscream had kept him at arm's length the whole time when all Megatron wanted to do was touch, explore the beautiful mech's frame and chase his charge until he couldn't process any more. Dreadwing was here now though... loyal... strong Dreadwing... The warbird's array clenched in need and his cooling vents whirred at the thought of those powerful servos wrapping around him... holding him down and fragging him through one overload after the next. Megatron shivered and groaned aloud as his imagination ran wild, filling his processor with image after debacuhed image. 

Megatron was helpless to control himself, the need driving away all thought, all reason as he felt his struts shiver and buckle, servos winding their way over the large flyer's plating as Megatron slipped down to his knees, trailing over warm componenets as he went. His lips found their way to Dreadwing's panel shamefully quickly, pressing down and kissing, lapping at the warm metal plate before Dreadwing could react, Megatron moaning aloud at the taste of aged metal, the scent of arousal meeting his olfactory sensors as it seeped from behind that thin barrier. "Dreadwing... open..." It was more a plea than a command.

Dreadwing's processor fumbled frantically to grasp what was happening. What was wrong with Megatron! He felt himself heat up shamefully, blushing and, much to his own eternal disgrace, pressing forward into his master's hot and busy glossa. "Ma-ahh! Master.... what is wrong! Clearly you---hnnn... ah.. are not-" Finally Dreadwing managed to force himself back, looking down at the almost pained expression on Megatron's face in worry. "Please master! Allow me to accompany you to Knockout's-"

"No!" Megatron surged forward and latched on to the shocked flyer's plating, servos pawing at the mech's panels again, firm and demanding this time. One of the warbird's serovs disappearing between his own thighs as Dreadwing simply gawked in utter shock, the soft, wet noises that accompanied the action making the loyal mech's engine rev and his cooling fans surge to life.

"Nhhh... Dreadwing... that's not.... not what I need..." It was difficult for Megatron to talk, to think. He ground down on the other's panel a little harder, hoping that his subordinate had finally gotten the message.

Something dawned on the loyalist when he realised that his master wasn't in any sort of pain. The initial shock of seeing Megatron slumped over the berth, overheating and dazed had set his processor to racing with anxious concern for his lord. He'd first assumed Megatron had been poisoned, perhaps even contracted a potentially deadly virus. Now that he looked Megatron over however, Dreadwing finally realised precisely what it was that afflicted his lord. 

Like almost every mech of a certain age, Dreadwing had experienced heat cycles before. They were an archaic and frustrating remnant of the coding that had once bound them all to eternal service. Cybertronians once served another race, the Quintessons, a cruel and dominating breed of cybernetic life that demanded total obedience. Since throwing off their oppressors, the coding had become redundant, only activating itself in fairly harmless means over a mech's life. 

Once Cybertronians evolved beyond the grasp of their masters, the coding that had once kept them docile, obedient and loyal, began to taper off, reduced to simple cycles of increased arousal and hormonal changes that paled in comparison to the blind and needy servitude Cybertronians once exhibited. Typically, the increased desire would wind down and eventually cease once the code recognised that there was no master to placate and hence, no service was required of them. Simply working through the heat was usually enough to satisfy the code, the length of time that took varying from mech to mech.

Dreadwing looked to his master with sympathy. It all made sense now. He'd not been present for the previous battle, only discovering from other mechs Megatron's supposed interface with their long standing enemy. Dreadwing had refused to believe it, only now forced to accept that it had indeed been the likely truth. The flyer held back a sigh, forcing himself to remain expressionless, calm and unjudging. How long had Megatron been enduring this for and what debauched actions had Starscream forced him through in exchange for his help in dealing with the heat? 

Dreadwing's spark sank for his master and he hurried to reach down, drawing Megatron to his pedes and leading the shockingly docile mech back to his sullied berth. There was no helping the matter. He frowned as he was forced to lay Megtron down in what he assumed to be both his master's and Starscream's fluids but quickly resigned himself to enduring with the mess. He was here to help his master. He could make use of the washracks once that task was dealt with.

Megatron looked up blearily at the other, optics blinking and frame shifting, never staying still. He looked as though he didn't understand why Dreadwing had stopped him, servos both moving to shamelessly touch his own array, stroking his spike and wriggling clawtips into his valve, mindlessly chasing overload and uncaring as to where he was, who was watching... Dreadwing was convinced the entire Autobot team could walk in here and watch and the warbird would scarcely blink, too desperate to overload to care about anything else.

Primus... Megatron had been left like this for too long... would he even remember any of this? Would he understand that... that if Dreadwing was to touch him... it would be to help him, not to take advantage of him? Finally letting a frustrated sigh slip out, Dreadwing deicided to deal with those thoughts later. Megatron might be angry with him, might discipline him but hopefully, once Dreadwing was done with him, the warlord would regain some of his faculties. He certainly couldn't leave Megatron like this. The poor mech was genuinely suffering and in danger of overheating if his needs weren't met.

Wondering why Primus had chosen to play this bizarre joke on him, Dreadwing finally leaned forward, reaching out hesitantly, grasping his leader's leg strut and squeezing. 

Megatron gasped and panted, shuttering his optics and parting his thighs in open invitation. His spike dripped with fluids, obviously having spilt its contents numerous times already. His valve... Megatron's valve dripped with lubricant, the scent overwhelming, enticing and impossible to ignore. Dreadwing heard his own cooling fans whirr noisily, felt his array heating simply at the sight, the smell of Megatron like this. Cautiously, his servo moved on, reaching up, tracing over thighs and kneading gently at the warrior's outer valve lips.

Megatron groaned and bucked, whimpering in need, too lost in his own desire to feel any shame, any remorse. Dreadwing eyed him critically, as if still making up his mind, still thinking his lord would condmen him for this. Well... maybe he would later. But for now the only way he could help Megatron endure this time was by providing him with what his body, what his base coding craved.

He pressed a single digit into the warrior's soaked valve, rubbing gently, soothingly, moving slowly and carefully. He wanted to make this as comfortable and pleasurable for Megatron as possible. "My lord..." He murmured in the mech's audial. "Tell me what you need... and I will serve." 

He wasn't even sure that Megatron had heard him, the warbird mindlessly bucking against his servo, whining in need. A cursory touch to the warrior's plating revealed his temperature was soaring, his potent arousal making his own frame start to show signs of overheating. "Frag it all... curse that seeker." Dreadwing mumbled under his breath. He'd done nothing but make the warlord's heat cycle more vicious, obviously tormenting the warlord perversely and leaving him to suffer the affects of the heat. 

Dreadwing shifted to kneel between Megatron's legs, slipping a second digit into his lord's valve with great hesitance. He really didn't want to be here... didn't want to find himself in such a precarious situation. He was loyal to Megatron and that meant serving him.... in any manner that Megatron chose. This wasn't a choice however, this was a matter of the warlord's own wellbeing, his sanity. The flyer needed to get Megatron's core temperature down quickly and only valve overload would achieve that. 

Turning his helm away in an effort to show respect, restraint, Dreadwing pressed twin digits deep inside his leader, curling talons and scraping the roof of Megatron's valve lightly. 

"Hnnnngh! Ahhh!" The warbird writhed and clamped a heavy servo over the edge of the berth, bucking his hips frantically, barely keeping from whimpering in his need. "Dreadwing... don't... don't hold back!" Another forceful roll of his hips made Megatron's desires all too clear. He found his voice when the flyer complied and shoved another finger into his sopping wet valve.

"Nyhaah! Frr-fraggg.... hfff... yea- yes... more..."

Dreadwing scissored his fingers, noting the way megatron squeezed around him, valve clenching and tightening, as if trying to draw him in further. He hissed in discomfort as his spike throbbed behind its panel, pressurising painfully and begging to be freed.

"Master..." The breathy little purr was full of reverence, laced with arousal and desire. Praise fell from his lips before he'd realised. "You look beautiful like this..." 

Megatron did let out a whimper this time, urging his hips down, splaying his thighs and panting, glossa lolling. He didn't even hear Dreadwing, too lost in his own pleasures to care. When that third finger pressed inside of him, grinding against his sensors and stretching him open, Megatron howled, gyrating his hips mindlessly, bucking against that servo as he pumped his own spike.

His helm fell and his invents became ragged and staticky, pressure building quickly along with a scorching heat that tore through his lines. Megatron felt like he was on fire. He swore he could feel his lines sizzling with heat, almost convinced he could smell his own fuel burning and evaporating. 

It all felt so good, the warrior arching and hissing when Dreadwing clamped his spare servo around the warlord's thigh, squeezing lightly, gently, coaxing eager receptors into lighting up in pleasure. "Nghh... haaaah.... hh... c-close..." His frame shuddered, his engine sputtering and revving, static lacing his vocaliser. 

Then it hit. The pressure welled and built, finally crescendoing into a blissful surge of pleasure that forced Megatron's valve to clamp down on the intruding digits. He ground his hips down in desperation, whines of need turning to gasping, fitful cries of pleasure as Dreadwing curled and flexed his servo, rubbed against sensor nodes that sizzled with charge. The warbird keened as he felt those thick claws wriggle and stretch, his valve stuffed full so wonderfully, charge escaping his frame in tiny trickles as the heat built more and more. 

Megatron's servo worked furiously on his spike. He grasped it tightly, squeezing and fisting his member to the point of pain and vigorously stroking until finally, mercifully, sweet overload was torn from him. Fluids spattered forth, nothing but a trickle as his transfluid reserves were milked dry. He'd overloaded so many times today already, was so sore and spent that the pleasure swelled with a deep ache that somehow only made it all feel that much more wonderful.

"Uhnnn... Dread... Dreadwing.... fff..haaa.." His frame arched and siezed, rattling noisily as armoured plates tightened and jostled against each other. His valve continued to ripple and squeeze, overload tearing through him, stripping away his senses until he could only sob. Then, mercifully, it ended. The overload had been so potent and so overwhelming that it left him strutless, weak and aching in every part of him. Yet still.... still he felt no relief.

Megatron turned to twitching and writhing within moments, thighs flexing and shifting, fanged maw opening in a desperate, almost mournful song. Primus spare him... he was burning up. 

Dreadwing shook with the effort to restrain himself, venting in huge, heavy gulps of cool air, struggling to cool his frame and keep his control. Pit but Megatron looked good... he longed to feel what that messy, sweet valve was like... all hot and tight around him. The thought flickered in and out of existance in the loyalist's mind, quickly dashed as his concern for his master rose to the forefront of his processor. "Megatron.... master... do you feel any relief, sir?" 

The answer to that question became all too clear when Dreadwing's servo, still resting on the warlord's thigh, shifted slightly, flexed in nervous tension. Megatron yelped and writhed, hissing a long, shaky exvent and groaning in need. It would seem not then...

"Please lord... what can I do for you." Dreadwing nervously skirted around the warrior's valve, having plucked his servo free from the flexing, eager valve once Megatron had experienced his overload. It seemed as though it hadn't been enough however, unease eating at the warrior's meta as he realised Megatron would need a lot more than what he'd just given him. Yet again, he was tempted ot call for another, feelings of discomfort growing as he watched his lord lose his mind to desire. 

Megatron only groaned and grasped the retreating servo, pressing it back to his valve, whining shamlessly in need. "Come on... I need..."

Dreadwing obeyed, finding it easier to do his task when his lord asked it plainly of him. His claws returned to the eager slit between his master's messy, lubricant soaked thighs, easily pressing in to the wet heat and nudging past swelled, glowing valve lips. The loyalist's mouth felt dry and he licked his lips to try and moisten them, optics growing wide at the sight as he watched his talons sink in to Megaron's willing heat. "Ohh.... master...." 

It was torment for poor Dreadwing. His spike ached like the pit but he refused to release it. That would be nothing but disrespectful to his master. Megatron's pleasure was all that mattered here and now and his own charge could be dealt with later. The flyer wriggled and curled his digits, gasping as Megatron groaned in that seductive, gravelly tone. The rich, deep baritone of Megatron's vocaliser was a potent aphrodesiac and Dreadwing choked down a whine at the sound of it. 

He curled his claws, rubbing, scraping at any sensor nodes he came across, pressing his claws deeper and deeper and finally finding that one, sweet little spot that set Megatron to howling in bliss.

"Dreadwing! Ahhh! Hahhh! Frraaaag.... auuugh... ff...more.... more more! Harder!" 

The kneeling mech curled his lips in pleased approval. This was better. Megatron should always be the one commanding, the one leading. It was simple, relieving to fall into line. "Mhhh.... yes master..." He forced his servo against Megaron's lips with a firm surge of pressure, grinding his palm against the warlord's swelling pleasure and rubbing at the glowing nub peaking from soaked folds. Drawing back, Dreadwing repeated the motion, slamming against that pleasureable little spot, the single bundle of sensors that had Megatron arching and howling. He started to pick up his pace, slamming his servo down, thrusting against the searing sensor brutally.

Megatron gasped ragged invents, thrusting his hips up with every brutal surge of Dreadwing's servo, desperate for more, eager to be filled, taken, used and stripped raw! "Dreadwing! Dreadwing, slag it! Your spike! For pit's sake!" He caught himself the second before he fell to begging, desperation driving away pride as he wriggled his hips, moaning and clenching, digging deep gouges in the berth.

"Frag me!" It was a command. Dreadwing baulked at the sudden demanding tone, swaying on his knees as if struck, dazed with the potent scent of Megatron's arousal. The warlord had just overloaded again, valve clenching tightly, rippling, Megatron moaning in bliss one moment only to hiss and growl in unabated need the next. His servo was not enough.

"Megatron... are you su-"

"Do it!" The warlord's voice shook as he kept himself from begging. Pit damn it, Dreadwing was almost as cruel as Starcsream! Why couldn't he just-

"Nyeaaaaaahhh!" The warlord's thoughts were interrupted by the sudden warm, blunt pressure against his valve, nudging it's way in to the warrior's heat a mere moment after the demand left his lips. "Primuussss! Haaahhh....nhhh..." 

Dreadwing shuttered his optics and tried to calm himself. His panel, his spike, his whole array had been lit in such blinding need that the second he retracted his panel, he was pressed against his lord's valve with the barely restrained need to frag, to fill, to stretch his leader wide and sink into the blissful heat Megatron offered. "M-master..." His vocals shook with the effort to restrain himself, Dreadwing focusing on his vents, giving Megatron a moment to adjust before slowly, cautiously slipping his length inside, field pulsing with appreciation, desire and need.

Megatron threw his servos over his helm and wailed, muttering, pleading, begging, singing Dreadwing's praise. It all came out as a jumbled prayer for relief, heat nipping at his frame, making his processor feel heavy and dazed. He rolled his hips encouragingly, not caring to prepare himself, to wait. He was soaked already, stretched and desperate so why was Dreadwing going so agonisingly slowly!

"Master... I don't wish to hurt you... please... tell me if I-"

"Frag it, Dreadwing! Stop-" Megatron nearly screeched in outrage when he felt the flyer begin to pull away, his pleas for the other to stop teasing him coming out as cries of protest. "No! Don't! Come... on just... Primus please stop teasing... please Dreadwing..." Megatron's hips rolled and writhed in desperation, the warlord reaching out to tug pitifully at sturdy plating in attempts to coax Dreadwing into finally giving him what he wanted. He let his field surge over the other, washing his mech in a thick wave of lust and desire.

Finding his vocaliser unwilling to comply, the warlord opened a comm. channel to Dreadwing alone, uttering a vile little human expletive in true desperation. *Fuck me!*

Dreadwing felt powerless to resist, that demanding order echoing in his helm with all the command of his lord, all the heat, the desire of his glorious leader. He pressed his servos to Megatron's waist and leaned over the mech, Megatron spread wide to accomodate him. Then the flyer thrust his hips home, edging into Megatron's heated valve slowly only to piston his hips forward with a forceful shove at the last moment, slamming into Megatron as the mech wailed beneath him.

The Decepticons writhed on the berth, Megatron lax and eager, spread wide for his partner. He moaned and gasped encouragement and praise as Dreadwing followed his lord's command and fragged him raw. He buried his thick spike in the other, gasping at how tight, how sweet Megatron felt around him. That firm pressure around his length was utter bliss, tight and hot and everything he'd ever dreamed it would be. 

Hips snapped together in a mad rush of feverish arousal, Dreadwing pounding into his master time and again, sinking in deeper and deeper with each thrust, slamming himself in to the hilt and drinking in every cry of pleasure it earned him with a growl of lust. It turned to a feral snarl when he felt Megatron abruptly clench around him again, the warlord falling back on the berth and screaming, his whole body going taut as overload stampeded across his frame once more. His optics fritzed and his vocaliser spat static but Dreadwing was determined not to topple over the edge after him. Not yet.

The loyalist gritted his dentae and kept going, taking a firm hold of Megatron's thighs and forcing them up high with a sudden violent grasp. He buried his length into that tight, clenching heat, gasping at the wash of lubricants that rose to meet him. Megatron dripped, coating his thighs, coating the berth. Dreadwing pressed his master's thighs back further, bending Megatron over almost double as he slammed into the warlord's clenching, rippling heat harder and harder, howling in pleasure as his own charge began to boil in the pit of his tank.

"Master... master... aahhh... overload for me master... mmm... one more...auuuh! One more... overload..." 

Megatorn sobbed, staring wide optic'd and blindly into the void, fanged maw open and panting, frame sizzling with charge so potent he could see sparks. He felt Dreadwing bear down on him, almost crushing his frame against Megatron's own, unyielding plating slamming against his nub with every ruthless thrust, that thick, broad spike spearing the deepest parts of him with each thrust. Megatron sobbed and writhed, shaking hard and struggling to vent with Dreadwing's bulk surrounding him. 

His charge rose higher and higher, desperate sobs of arousal, of need falling freely from the warrior's lips and he grabbed on the the Decepticon. Clawed servos dug into the blue mech's plating, scrabbling for purchase, desperate for a grounding force in the whirlpool of fiery charge that assaulted him. One final, vicious slam and Megatron overloaded again, valve clamping down with enough force to make him scream, charge rippling through his frame and sizzling his sensors, making him writhe and shake, sob in blissful relief as Dreadwing's thick, hard spike buried itself deeply.

"Uhhhn! Dreadwing! Dread-uhh! S'good! Sooooo goooood!" His servos shook as he clenched around the other, the sudden spill of Dreadwing's fluids scorching over his valve lining in a blissful wash of heat and pleasure that tore another scream of bliss from the warrior.

 

 

When it was over both mechs all but collapsed, Dreadwing toppling to the ground and Megatron going strutless and lax on the berth. They both panted hard, exhausted and overheated. Even after both mechs had calmed, it was some time before either of them could manage to move.

Dreadwing eventually hauled himself up, wiping himself off with a scowl and approaching Megatron warily. He reached out slowly, brushing his servo lightly over the other's plating, darting back when he noticed Megatron flinch. His spark clenched in concern for the other and Dreadwing's earlier worries started to resurface. "Master... the medic... he needs to see you."

Megatron grumbled and rolled over, tucking in on himself a little. Dreadwing almost laughed aloud at the motion, covering the little slip with a cough and smiling at Megatron's back. It was a peculiarly endearing sight. "Come now master... we can't simply-" When Dreadwing reached out to grasp Megatron's plating, his servo was instead snatched up, Megatron hauling him to the berth with a sudden strength that sent the unsuspecting mech toppling forwards.

The warlord tugged the captive servo in his grasp over his plating, wrapping it around his waist in a clear desire for comfort. Dreadwing blinking in stunned shock. "Master...?" Nevertheless he allowed himself to be guided roughly into place, his frame positioned to Megatron's liking until the warlord was tucked against Dreadwing's chassis snugly. It wasn't long before a rhythmic venting started up, Megatron's engine rumbling contentedly along with it. It sounded almost like he was purring.

Helplessly trapped, wound about his master like a living comforter, Dreadwing resigned himself to rest. Megatron was obviously in no immediate distress or discomfort. Perhaps some rest would do him good. The flyer watched his master for a time, servos flexing and frame shifting as nervous tension slowly bled from his struts. Megatron's panels were still bared, the warrior's array warm against Dreadwing's plating. It was pleasant and the loyalist eventually allowed himself to relax, to simply enjoy this close proximity, the smell, the feel of his master resting against him.

The two mechs fell into a deep recharge soon enough, curled about one another, filthy and scraped, paint transfers and marred polish making for a debauched sight. It was a concern for later however. For now there was only warm, rich, comfort, twin high power engines rumbling contentedly as soft ventilations filled the air.


	7. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aptly named due to the lack of porn in this ONE chapter. Though there's still some enjoyable interactions I hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Primus I'm sorry this took so long. I've been trying but my brain's not been co-operating. Stupid fleshie thing refused to string words together properly.

Megatron awoke much later, groggy and exhausted, his head swimming and his frame aching. He was tired, he was sore and, pit damn it, he was charged. He clutched his helm and groaned, memory fuzzy, vague at best. Had he... propsitioned Dreadwing? Megatorn blinked, looking around for any sign of the flyer. 

He couldn't see Dreadwing... but he could clearly see the evidence of his visit. Transfluids coated his thighs, left to drip down from the warm, well lubricated valve and dry on his thighs in a thick, unpleasant layer. Megatron scowled, dragging himself to his pedes and making for his personal washracks. 

His pedes scuffed against the floor as the warlord moved, exausted, his frame heavy and his movements slow. He groaned in frustration as his array began to warm again, all to eager for another round or 10 of hard, satisfying interface. Megatron just wanted to rest, however. 

He slid open the door and stepped into the small chambers, activating the showerhead and standing under the warm, solvent laced mixture of water and cleanser, shutting his optics and letting his mind wander.

How long had he been like this? Megatron had lost track of time... was starting to wonder if this ordeal would ever end, in fact. He loosed an exasperated sigh, feeling the unwelcome warmth in his array grow by the second. He'd soon be lost in need yet again. Perhaps it was best to address his troops now, while he still functioned. After all, the war couldn't stop just because Megatron had a charge.

The warlord's inner musings were soon interrupted. There was a ping at his door. Megatron hastily scrubbed himself off and dried his frame with a cloth, tossing it to the floor in his haste. "Yes! What is it!" 

He rounded the corner to his chamber just as Dreadwing let himself in. The mech looked up in surprise. "Uh... Lord Megatron! Apologies sir. Knockout provided me with the medical override once I explained myself to him." Frag... here it came. He'd gone behind Megatron's back to deal with the issue. Dreadwing was sure his lord would be furious with him. His frame tensed as expect Megatron to come at him, all fury and anger, a violent force of destruction and domination. It never came to that.

"Ah. I see," Megatron quietly intoned. 

He was not angry. In fact, he was largely relieved. He'd known he should probably have checked in with Knockout days ago but... he did not want to endure the humiliation of having the medic poke and prod at his intimate parts, question him over his sexual history and habits. The whole thing was humiliating enough without that added disgrace. Now, however, Megatron started to see how much this affliction was costing him, was costing his Decepticons. "Where is Knockout then?"

Dreadwing baulked, blinking in shock before recovering himself. "He... Knockout... at the medical bay, sir. I wasn't sure if you would agree to see him. I thought it better to converse with the both of you rather than making a decision in your stead. Please, forgive my impertinence over this development. I was thinking only of your wellbeing." Dreadwing bowed hastily, rushing to reassure his lord of his good intentions.

Megatron chuckled, smiling lightly. "That you were Dreadwing... I'm certain of that. You were indeed very... thorough about making that clear last night." Megatron's lips curled in a nervous smile, the expression rarely seen on such a powerful mech. His array throbbed at the memory of Dreadwing's spike filling him up, instantly lubricating behind the thin panel, the warlord shifting in discomfort, hoping desperately that his panel would keep the steady dribble of lubricants hidden. The whole matter was rather awkward, uncomfrotable, but there was no use pretending it had never happened. Besides, Dreadwing could likely be called upon again if the warlord grew desperate. 

"I'll go and meet with Knockout now." The warlord decided he'd best get this over with. At least he had some control over his faculties at this point. Better to get on with the show while he still held two thoughts in his processor. "Dreadwing... I appreciate your discretion... and your candor." The warlord turned and set off, leaving the stunned warrior behind.

 

Megatron focused on keeping his stride steady and his gaze up as he stalked the halls of the Nemesis. He felt optics on him, glaring back at any mech foolish enough to stare. Even after he'd growled at the voyeurs, he felt more optics on his back, his field prickling.

By the time Megatorn reached the medical bay he was uncharacteristically nervous, relieved to step inside the relatively private space. He cycled his vents in something characteristic of a sigh of relief, allowing himself a moment to relax.

When he did look up, he was greeted by the sight of Knockout, the racer staring at him in surprise. "Uh... Lord Megatron! I hadn't expected... please, come in." He hurried to tidy his work space, stowing away tools that had yet to be cleaned from his last patient and fetching a set of clean, sterilised ones, already preparing for the procedures he knew Megatron would need to submit to. 

Despite the mech's oftentimes playful and inappropriate nature, Knockout was still a professional. He knew Megatron was loathe but, must have understood that a formal exam was necessary if he'd shwon his face. Knockout was really not looking forward to examinging his lord's interface equipment, so he buried himself in his work, ferrying tools to and fro, inspecting each piece of equipment critically.

"Knockout... you know why I'm here, I take it? Dreadwing said he had spoken with you." 

The doctor hummed in assent, busy checking over the speculum in his servo. "Mhmm..." At Megatron's growl of annoyance, the racer hurried to continue. "Yes. Yes of course, my liege. He's spoken with me and I'm relieved to see you've come. It is... quite unusual for a heat cycle to last this long, as I'm sure you know." Megatron was an old mech, far older than Knockout. He'd seen the early days of Cybertron firsthand. It was an easy assumption that the mech had been through a heat cycle before. 

"Actually..." Megatorn coughed, the action unecessary, simply serving to make a point. He shuffled uneasily. If Knockout hadn't been so taken aback he would have paid enough mind to notice how endearing the warlord's shy act was.

"Wait.... seriously? I mean... every mech goes through the stage. Surely you-" One look at the muddle of confusion and trepidation on Megatron's faceplates told Knockout all he needed to know. No. Megatron had never been through this. He was likely scared, too proud to admit it, definitely nervous and most certainly charged up like nothing he'd ever experienced before.

"Oh." The racer blinked and tried not to stare at the strange mech before him. It was unheard of... a mech Megatron's age? Never having experienced the heat cycles? Why, Shockwave would be fascinated and Starscream... well... he surmised that the seeker, curious and intuitive as Starscream was, had already discovered that fact, perhaps even... orchestrated it somehow. Megatron was in no state of mind to resist Starscream, let alone reprimand him at the time being. What a strange grab for power that would be if it were true.... He wondered if it were true, if Soundwave had caught on... 

Megatron cleared his throat noisily, bringing Knockout out of his silent musings. 

"Well... my lord... that's... certainly unusual-" A pointed glare from Megatron had him hurrying to continue. "But- nothing to warrant concern yet, I assure you!" 

The medic smiled, nervously sending Starscream a ping. He owed the seeker some level of loyalty after all. Starscream had rescued his beloved Breakdown when no one else saw fit to. 

Knockout gestured towards a clean berth. "If you would, my liege. I'll perform a simple scan first." He waited for Megatron to move, nervously awaiting Starscream's response.

*Knockout! Why are you bothering me?*

The racer fought the urge to groan out loud at the arrogant flyer. *Oh, so sorry, herr commandant. I merely thought you might like to know our liege is currently in the midst of a full exam. Do try and be a touch more civil if you understand my meaning.*

The communications line went silent for a moment, a simple order following. *It is a standard heat cycle, is it not?* Both mechs had to be wary of Soundwave's abilities. Even their thoughts had to be kept guarded under the telepath's watch. 

Knockout examined the message critially before responding. *I believe that will be the case. Do you agree?* A quick affirmative revealed the truth. Starscream was behind this somehow, he didn't know how or to what degree but he knew the flyer was a more reliable leader than Megatron, less likely to scrap him for no reason at least. Megatron had been...unpredictable since his return to Earth... unhinged and temperamental.

The short exchange of communications came to an abrupt end when Megatron settled himself on the berth, unaware of the suberterfuge going on mere steps away. He waited nervously for Knockout to attend him, shifting his weight in an effort to appear comfortable and at ease despite his obvious distress.

Knockout activated his medical scanner, part of his own equipment. It would detect any anomolies in the warlord's frame. A quick scan revealed nothing out of sorts other than a potent heat in the warlord's nether regions. Not unexpected for a regular heat cycle... "Hm... all clear there. Now... Megatron... this may seem... invasive, uncomofrtable but... a full medical revuew will need to include a look at your equipment. I'm going to need to open up your valve and take a look."

Heat rose to Megatron's faceplates, blushing the aged metal blue in a moment. To his credit, however, Megatron nodded and complied. "Understood. Whatever is necessary, doctor."

Knockout allowed himself a quiet sigh of relief, brief and short. He had half expected Megatron to fight him every step of the way. Instead, the warlord was complying, anxious yet following the doctor's requests. The medic guided Megatron to lay on his back, legs parted and pedes flat against the berth. Megatron's field flickered in agitation and anxiety. 

"Now my liege... I need you to open up and I'm going to have to spread you so I can examine you for any... anomalies."

Megatron stuttered a grumble of discomfort, sliding his panel back without too much fuss. 

"And the other."

Megatron was surprised at the request but complied easily enough. His spike popped into view moments later, half pressurised and twitching with sudden interest at the mere proximity of another warm frame. Likewise, his valve twitched and flexed, eager and heated. Send him to the pit... this was humiliating.

"Good. Now... this may be a bit cold..." The head of the speculum pressed against Megatron's outer folds, cold against the searing warmth of his array. The warlord's vents hitched and he shifted in discomfort. Knockout laid a servo on his hips, urging him to stay still. "Apologies, Lord Megatron... now... this might be a bit...mh...uncomfortable... but bear with it."

The speculum was seated, dialled open bit by bit, forcing Megatron's slick valve open wide and allowing Knockout to properly examine it. "Mh... I don't see any damage... nor any signs of imflammation beyond normal parameters.... I'll need a sample..." He turned his back on Megatron, leaving the warlord feeling exceedingly vulnerable and exposed. Megatron nearly called out to the medic in a mixture of concern and anger, Knockout luckily returning only a moment later.

"There...." Megatron had expected worse. It was all over quickly enough. A moment later and he was free of the speculum, still blushing intensely. It had felt strangely pleasant to have any attention to his frame, even Knockout's clinical touch. He put those thoughts from his mind, trying to keep his traitorous body from heating further. It did little good. He felt lubricants pooling in the depths of his valve, praying that Knockout would be done with his exam soon.

"Ok... close up there." Megatron's panel snapped shut instantly, Knockout barely keeping from snickering at the warlord's almost shy act. "I'll take a quick look at your spike then we'll move on."

Megatron hummed his assent, grateful to at least have something in place between the vast pools of lubricant dribbling in his valve and the clean, polished berth. He'd be mortified if he left a mess.

Knockout pinched and tugged his spike carefully during his exam, Megatron unable to keep quiet. He softly whimpered, biting his lip plate, keeping from rutting into the medic's servo through sheer determination. He'd need to frag again after this... pit... as soon as he got out the door...

Knockout hummed as he looked over the impressive length, resisting the urge to comment that Megatron was now completely hard and erect. "Mh... nothing out of the ordinary here either... so far everything looks to be standard, my liege. Close up." That was... if Megatron could.

The warlord hissed as he forced his spike to depressurise, only to whimper in concern when he failed to do so. "Eh... what..." He tried again, painful ache in his array swiftly followed by a pounding helmache that left him recoiling in agony. "Ghnaaahh!"

Knockout rushed to his lord's side, placing a servo on the warbird's forearm in concern. "My liege? What's wrong?" 

Megatron shied away from him, panting hard, frame temperature suddenly spiking drastically. "Nhh... hot... dizzy..." He wavered terribly, nearly toppling sideways before Knockout caught him and coaxed him to lay back down in the berth. 

"Mh... that's unusual... It's not uncommon to have difficulties in retracting your spike but... the resulting helmache is surprising... rarely encountered." Knockout mused quietly, putting a comforting servo on his liege's shoulder. "This is one pit of a heat cycle, Lord Megatron. If... if Breakdown and I can be of assistance again..." 

"No!" Megatron roared the word with a surprising force, prompting Knockout to step back in fear. "No... Knockout. I'll... I'd like to deal with this myself now... it's pitiful enough that I had to rely on so many others thus far... Perhaps..." Pit... as much as it pained him to say it, he knew it was the right choice. He'd already made so many mistakes. It was best to simply lock himself in his quarters for now and wait it out.

"Starscream will lead until this affliction has left me."

"My liege, I really don't think that's wise-"

"Knockout..." It was a low growl, full of warning. Megatron's patience was up. He'd been compliant. Now he was done with listening. He'd made his decision.

"Coolant. You'll need a lot of it... and energon..." Knockout all but peeped in protest. 

"That's fine. Have the drones handle it. I'll leave the quarters open to them." Megatron waves his servo dismissively, turning to leave, abruptly looking down at the stiff length still poking out. Pit... he couldn't walk the halls looking like that...

Knockout relayed the order to the drones, patching in to the command channel and bringing the mechs up to speed. A small group was selected and effectively put on 'warbird duty.' The unlucky mechs were selected at random, in a group in case one or two were left... indisposed or offlined by the volatile warrior.

With that taken care of, Knockout supposed he'd better give Megatron some privacy if he wanted to be rid of his charge any time soon. "I've given the order, my liege. Unless you require my assistance... I'll be heading off to meet with the other commanders." He failed to mention the fact that he would be heading off to effectively inform Starscream that he'd been tenuously granted leadership. "There shouldn't be anyone due to arrive here for some time..." A subtle nod to Megatron. He could take care of his needs in peace.

Megatron huffed in frustration, rumbling his understanding. "Good... dismissed." 

Knockout dipped into a very subtle bow, the attempt at respect feeling hollow and mocking to Megatron. He ignored it, waiting until Knockout left, his pedestepes echoing outside, heavy door sliding shut, before he relaxed. He slumped to the berth, clutching his spike in frustration and gasping, writhing the moment he did.

It seemed ignoring it, even for the short time that he had, had been enough to send his frame into chaos. Arousal and desire clamoured in his array and his spark ran hot. It was far too quick, far too easy to overload. A few pumps of his spike once Knockout had cleared the room had Megatron spurting hot relief into his servo, gasping and shuddering as his charge only built. Thankfully, his spike obeyed him this time however, receiding into its housing with a lingering throb of protest.

Megatron clutched the berth feebly, hastily wiping the mess off his servo with a cloth and tossing it in the nearest waste receptacle. He had to get back to his quarters. Now. 

_______________________________________________________________________________

 

As the warlord dragged himself through the halls of the Nemesis, Knockout went to speak with Starscream and Soundwave. He relayed Megatron's orders, Soundwave reassured with a ping to the warlord himself who promptly locked down his communications and ordered no one to contact him. Starscream had feigned concern and humble acceptance of his new role, fooling neither mech. However, there was no way to prove that he had played a part in Megatron's sudden 'illness.' 

The three mechs held an uneasy truce for now. Starscream would lead but only until their lord was well once more. The seeker was careful to hide any seditious thoughts, focusing on his desire to defeat the Autobots rather than the lurking glee at having toppled his leader from power.


	8. Drones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> porn glorious porn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! Look! More Mega-porn for you! Sorry it took so long.

Megatron had dragged himself back to his quarters and proceeded to bury his servos between his thighs. At least he knew nobody but the drones would bother him now. Knockout had arranged to have them arrive on timed intervals, likely as a means to check on him as well as ferry fuel to him. Well... Megatron supposed he could accept those terms. At least if he wound up in stasis lock from this damnable affliction, someone would drag him to the medbay. It was a humiliating yet comforting thought. He'd be ashamed but he would be alive.

Megatron put those thoughts aside for now, taking up the slim little false spike that Knockout had slipped to him before leaving. He'd nearly crushed the toy in fury at the time, somehow stopping himself, stowing it away instead. Now he was glad for it.

The warlord inspected his prize hungrily, turning it over in his servos. It was small... too small to be of much use to him perhaps. On closer inspection, he found a tiny mechanism on the toy, pressing it curiously and confronted with a noisy 'whirr' as the toy sprang to life. Well... that certainly made the toy a little more appealing.

Megatron wasted no time before pressing the toy between his thighs, rubbing it over his node eagerly and shouting in shocked pleasure. He was so sensitive, so amped up and desperate that even the lightest little stroke or pressure sent him spiralling into heady pleasure. He panted hard and shook, pulling the toy away, far too sensitive to have the thing anywhere near his node. Instead, he pressed the buzzing toy between soaking valve lips, teasing his outer folds with a shuddering cry of bliss. 

"Ohhhh f-fraaaag..." He was almost ready to overload simply from this minor stimulation. Megatron felt a mingled sense of dread and excitement as he worked up the courage to slide the little toy inside. 

Immediately he let out a startled, hitching cry, collapsing onto the berth, faceplates flush against the cool metal and aft high as he nudged the tip of the toy inside, servo wriggling between his legs. It buzzed and whirred, setting off his sensors delightfully, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through Megatron's systems and building the charge in his frame up steadily. Oh, why hadn't Megatron gotten ahold of one of these things sooner... it was perfect... He controlled the pace, he chased his own overload... there was no one here to humiliate him... Megatorn could happily stay like this for the next several cycles, buzzing toy wedged between his thighs, pleasured grin on his faceplates.

The small vibrator was cranked up to its maximum output, purring and buzzing noisily, making Megatron's slick valve pulse wonderfully and tearing a gasp from the warrior as he toppled into overload already. He groaned his pleasure, wriggling his hips and panting hard, lubricants running down his thighs as images filtered into his meta. He was fragging Starscream... no... getting fragged by him... Optimus pounded his valve like a medmech the next moment, seemingly trying to deactivate Megatron through fragging. It seemed like a blissful way to go at this point and Megatron was certain he'd sit up and beg for the Prime's spike right now if he thought it would do him any good. 

Cables tensed and the surge of pleasure washing over Megatron faded, leaving him just as desperate and needy as he'd been to start with. He whimpered out loud at the cruelty of it, desperate for relief but finding none. His valve was insatiable, craving overload after overload and Megatron was helpless to resist the need. His talons worked their way in beside the toy, rim stretched a little wider to accomodate as clawtips wriggled and stroked, pressing against tender, receptive nodes. 

Megatron cried out in mingled bliss and torment, the little vibrator feeling far too small inside him. He craved that sensation of feeling full, stretched and satisfied, images of the Prime filtering through his meta each time he shuttered his optics. "Mm... Prime... uhnnn..." He murmured the words, breathily chanting the designation, picturing that stiff, broad spike that had felt so good inside him... so perfect. 

His valve tensed in response, bearing down a little more, constricting around the whirring rod buried inside him and making Megatron shudder in pleasure. He could almost imagine... His clawtips wriggled, stretching is valve rim, pressing in as far as they could and scraping against sensors. 

Megatron rolled onto his back and drew his legs up, letting them part lazily, falling to the sides, slack and slicked with moisture. He urged the toy in deeper, teasing his nub with his spare servo and shuttering his optics, mouthing the Prime's name over and over as he imagined that powerful red and blue frame splitting him open and filling him right up, thick spike driving inside him again and again and taking his pleasures, filling him with transfluids and leaving him a shivering, debacuhed mess.

The warlord gasped, panting hard, thighs shivering, back arching as his fantasy unfolded, picturing it all again and again, stretching his valve wide and burying talons in the wet, sopping heat, urging the buzzing rod in deeper and teasing his nub furiously. 

Whimpering, desperate for that rich, potent pleasure of being impaled on the Prime's spike, Megatron urged the toy in deeper, shuddering invents as he pinched his nub roughly, wriggled his talons and imagined... 

'Take it Megatron... you filthy Con... take all of it...' Oh frag why was that image making him so hot, that voice... those optics... bright and deep with hatred, with cruel intent. Would the Prime do something like that to him? Would he... Those questions were thrown aside as the warlord's meta drowned in countless scenarios of welcome pleasure, Prime taking him over and over again, stretching him, filling him, using him up until he could scarcely process. 

The warlord shook, vocals hitching in a needy keen as he felt the pressure in the base of his tank grow and peak, overload dangled over the warrior tormentingly as one final thought pushed Megatron over the edge.

'Scream for me Megatron.' And he did, the warrior's vocals coming out hoarse and ragged as he thoughtlessly jammed the vibrator in deeply, picturing the Prime skewering him and pounding his valve ruthlessly. The buzzing toy whirred and pulsed against the depths of Megatron's valve, teasing untouched sensors as valve walls rippled and spasmd, lubricant gushing from the soaked slit as Megatron writhed on the berth.

His valve throbbed, feeling like it was on fire, so hot, too hot, too eager for more. He could only urge the toy in deeper and hold on, Optimus' voice echoing in his processor, demanding more of him, urging him on. The warrior abandoned his clit-mouse, jamming an extra two talons in to his already stretched valve, pumping it wildly and pressing his hips forward eagerly. He panted and cried out time and again, overload finally starting to ebb, leaving him no less aroused, no less needy and all the more eager for more.

The warlord fumbled at his valve, gasping, groaning, wriggling as his desires took over. Frag he wanted... needed... why couldn't he feel the toy? Pinching the tip of the little device and tugging it free, Megatron whined audibly when he realised the toy had burned itself out. He'd pressed it in too far... lubricants seeping in to the control mechanism and ruining it. The warlord keened in frustration, tossing the worthless piece of scrap against the nearest wall in frustration, roaring in anger and shaking violently.

He was running far too hot, suddenly aware of how much fuel he'd burned through, how desperately the warnings on his HUD were bleeping. He was overheating. Megatron groaned and dragged a servo down his face, wanting nothing more than to lay here stuffing his valve full as best e could and driving the need off for as long as he had to. 

With a frustrated whine, the dazed mech dragged himself from his berth, staggering towards the little table just nearby and drinking down every last drop of energon he had in eager gulps. The coolant came next, what little of it he had. He downed a small half-cube, his internal temperature fluttering before dropping mildly. It was not enough but it would have to do for now.

Dragging himself back to the berth, Megatron toppled onto it and tried something new, climbing onto his knees and sinkning down onto his talons in a sharp motion. He gasped, his wrist aching at teh angle but the pleasure worth it. The penetration wasn't as deep as Megatron craved but if he shuttered his optics he could imagine it was a spike he was bouncing up and down on, not just his own servo.

Ragged groans soon filled the air once more, slippery rivulets of lubricant running down the warbird's talons as he wriggled his talons, gasping, groaning, aching for more but unable to help himself. He whimpered when he came again, the pressure not enough, his valve clamouring for more and unable to find satisfaction in the shallow penetration.

Toppling forward in helpless need, the warrior threw aside all other thoughts, mindlessly fragging himself with his servo, grinding against his nub eagerly. His spike had stiffened and pulsed release countless times now, neglected, ignored in favour of the burning need assaulting Megatron's valve.

 

. . . . . . . .

 

The warlord never heard the buzzing chime of his intercom, the shift of metal on metal as the door to his hab. suite opened. A vehicon stepped inside, terrified by what he saw.

The poor nameless drone contacted Knockout immediately, desperate for orders, desperate for a way out of this. *Commander. Lord Megatron is-is.* The communication died off, fizzling out as the drone whimpered helplessly at his orders to continue regardless. Another drone was right behind him, carrying energon and coolant. They both stepped cautiously into the room.

The drones spared a helpless glance for each other, each taking a cube, energon and coolant in servo. They crept closer, as quietly as they could. All they had to do was set the fuel down then they could leave. Megatron wouldn't deactive them for seeing him like this and they could go on existing, following orders and pretending none of this had ever happened. That was the plan at least... Megatron seemed to have other ideas.

The walord shifted on his berth, alerted to the presence of others. He onlined his optics, servos both still between his thighs, one teasing his nub while the other pumped itself in and out of his valve. He'd overloaded so many times... but was still so desperate... need overwhelming him when he saw other warm frames, uncaring of who they belonged to. 

He let his thighs part in open invitation, splayed wide, servo tugged free from the sopping, warm mess of flushed folds and playing about the entrance, enticing, tempting. "Come... serve your lord..." The drones looked to each other, unsure how to proceed. 

"Lord Megatron..." One of them stuttered. "We... brought you fuel, coolant. Commander Knockout asked us to-"

"Bring it to me..." Megatron purred, deep rumbling baritone full of desire.

The vehicons shifted nervously, the first, holding an energon cube, nodding and slowly stepping forward. Slow, measured steps led him closer until he coudl feel the heat pouring off Megatron's frame, helm shifting of its own volition, taking a good look at the warlord's soaked, bared valve. The drone's systems revved to life from the sight, engine roaring, cooling fans clicking on.

Megatron laughed, a hearty, warm chuckle that somehow only made the drone more nervous. "My lord..." Megatron only seemed to grow more amused, more interested, the drones sharing a nervous glance. The first of the pair hesitantly reached out, bringing his cube forward in offering. Megatron tilted his helm back and opened his fanged maw obligingly.

The hapless vehicon silently panicked, the sputtering of his engine the only noticeable symptom of his composure crashing and burning. "Lo-ord... Megatron..." He slowly tipped the cube up, watching, fascinated as Megatron drank. He looked so different now... moaning softly in enjoyment as the warm, life giving fluids trickled into his mouth. 

The drone slowly emptied his cube, tipping the last remnants into Megatron's open mouth with exceptional care. He was shaking lightly, terrified of spilling a drop on the warlord's plating, grim images of his own violent deminse the logical result from the drone's perspective.

Megatron, for his part, held no such desires, licking his lips once the cube was emptied and rumbling happily. He felt his fuel levels, once severely dwindling, now higher, rising steadily until he was at roughly half of his optimum fuel levels. He'd been dangerously low before and would likely need another whole cube before reaching optimum levels. For now however, the coolant was welcome.

The next drone stepped forward, treated to the same privelege as the last. Megatron moaned softly as the coolant met his glossa, some of the fluids spilling onto his cheeks, down his chin. The drone nearly shorted out in panic then and there, servos shaking, spark hammering in terror. Megatron didn't seem perturbed however, the poor drone hoping he'd be spared. His hopes were dashed the next moment however, when he felt strong servos snap into motion, grasping his arms and pulling him forward. The drone almost squeaked in helpless terror, vocaliser shorting in panic.

Instead of the instant violence however, Megatron instead settled the drone between his legs, servos held tight, cutting in to the mech's plating lightly, energon seeping from tiny wounds. The drone shivered and looked to his companion for help, spark dropping in hopelessness when he saw that his companion was making a break for the door.

"You! Stay... I've not dismissed you yet..." Megatorn barked the command, the otehr drone freezing in place. He wanted nothing more than to flee but was not foolish enough to disobey his lord. 

The first drone trembled in fear, still expecting punishment, watching Megatron's servo move from his wrist, tracing down his frame. He waited, counting the seconds until his brief life was over. 

The drone yelped, the sound coming out as a staticky cry. Megatron was... touching his panels?

"Open up," came the clear command and the poor drone obeyed before he could so much as think. 

He watched, stricken, frightened as the powerful servo hovering over his hips moved to stroke his limp spike, optics widening in shock. He tried to speak, to question what was happening, vocal components locked down in his frantic anxiety.

"Lo-l- or..d?" The static laced query came out choked and frenzied and Megatron simply laughed, loosing his grip, teasing the drone's spike as he tended to his own equipment. He loosed a throaty growl as he pressed twin digits into his dripping valve, gasping and grinding his dentals. "Come on now... surely even a drone has needs... desires..." Megatron spread his thighs wide for the nameless vehicon, rolling his hips in desire, in open invitation and growling a commanding. "Do it..."

The vehicon groaned, voice choked, frame shaking. Megatron.... lord Megatron was touching him, stroking his spike, offering himself. Was he dreaming? Had he offlined and fallen into the pit? Or maybe into some celestial dream? He couldn't help but buck into Megatron's touch, spike stiffening almost instantly, frame heating, cooling fnas kicking on. 

The tip of the drone's chord grazed Megatron's opening, the nameless vehicon shivering at the warmth, the heat pouring off his master. He whined audibly in confusion, helplessly lost. Megatron's servo wrapped around his chord, squeezing, tugging, drawing a whimper from the confused vehicon. 

"Mh... come on... I've waited long enough..." The warlord groaned, bucking his hips, tugging the drone's chord and wriggling his soaked slit against the head of that tempting length. When the vehicon refused to budge, Megatron finally grew frustrated, growling, abruptly barking out a commanding, "Do it! Now!"

Sweet relief soaked Megatron's sensors as his aching valve was finally filled, stretched around the slim chord nudging its way deep inside him. The warlord moaned, his optics rolling back, a minor overload stealing what little was left of his composure the second he finally felt something firm press inside of him. 

"Uhnnn! Yessss... auuughh pit yes... finally...." The warrior arched and moaned sweetly, rolling his hips, panting hard. "Come on.... more... more, slag it!" 

The drone helplessly obeyed, rolling his hips, groaning in low, gutteral sounds of pleasure at his master's rippling, wet and tight entrance squeezing around him. "Lord Megatron..." He uttered the warbird's designation in breathy reverence, fear dwindling as pleasure took hold.

Megatron purred in rapturous pleasure, lifting his hips to meet the drone's movements, crying out in bliss at every thrust. He felt so good! He wanted to stay this way forever. No more fighting the heat, fighting to control himself. He growled for the other drone to come closer, snapping his servo out and squeezing the mech's spike once the vehicon was close.

The second vehicon stiffened and gasped, his frame shaking, his vocaliser glitching out in a whine of static when Megatron went to work on his stiff chord, stroking and teasing it, gasping aloud in pleasure all the while.

The drone shuffled closer, looking down at Megatron's faceplates, full of desire, heat, need. His usual ferocity was barely present, the warbird too lost in pleasure. Taking a chance, the drone inched closer still, looking to Megatron's open maw with hunger. He nudged against Megatron's lips, spark siezing in terror for a split second before the warrior's glossa snaked out and lapped at the drone's chord. The vehicon nearly toppled over at the sudden rush of sensory feedback, pleasure so hot and rich pulsing through his frame that he forgot himself, threw away decorum, pride, fear and pressed his eager length into the warbird's accepting mouth.

Megatron hummed around the chord easing its way past his lips, lapping at it eagerly, pressing his lips down hard and sucking, wriggling his glossa over the tip. He moaned and sucked hard, coaxing the chord in deeper and and swallowing around it. All the while, the other drone was rutting into him, picking up his pace not and steadily fucking Megatron's valve, hot, blissful pleasure tingling the warlord's sensors and making him groan. 

The two vehicons shared a glance of disbelief somewhere in the midst of things, wondering how they'd ended up in this precarious position. That thought was thrust aside however, at Megatron's sudden, ardent moan, rich with pleasure, half stifled by the chord between his lips. He writhed and thrust his hips outwards again and again, bucking back against the vehicon now slamming into his hips, thrusting wildly. 

Megatron's moans of pleasure were stifled by the sudden vigorous thrusts of the vehicon at his helm, the drone forcing himself deep into Megatron's intake and pumping in and out. Megatron writhed beneath, feeling pleasure wash over him, his valve clamp down and ripple hard. He rubbed his node furiously, the tender bead hot and engorged, sensitive and eager. He groaned and writhed, pressed his hips up in desperate want for more as his whole frame convulsed and arched, sweet pleasure tearing through him and leaving him aching and moaning, desperate for more, always more. The drone pistoned his hips in and out hard, that small but wonderful spike setting sensors alight, raking over heated nodes and pulsing pleasure with every thrust.

The warlord let out a startled yelp at the sudden hot rush of fluids inside him, too far gone to care that he'd allowed the lowly drone to spill inside of him, only craving more. The potent overload came and faded, desire still just as rampant, the drone unofortunately, spent. 

Pulling back from his master, the vehicon that had just overloaded inside his lord and commander settled back against the wall, gasping for cooling vents, when a scuffle from nearby tore a squeak of alarm from his intake.

Megatron had grabbed ahold of the other drone using his intake, wressled him to the berth and mounted him, pinning the far smaller, terrified mech beneath.

"My lord! Please-I!" The hapless drone begged, horrified, sure he was about to be deactivated. Megatron shut him up with a fierce growl, commanding tone thundering across the room. "Open! Now!" 

Panels snapped aside in an instant, Megatron shuddering a deep, ragged moan as he drops his hips, swallowing up the drone's chord in one eager motion and clenching tight around it. Transfluids and lurbricants dribble from his slit, staining his thighs, the vehicon's crotch and the berth below. Megatron heedlessly started to rut and writhe immediately, rolling his hips back and forth, drawing deep rends in the berth below as his claws rake over the metal surface and he forced the drone's chord in deeply. "Hnn.... yesss... ahhnn... that's good...."

The drone could hardly argue, pinned beneath Megatron's bulk, terrified for his life. He offlined his optics and focused on holding out for as long as he could, trying not to think about how good Megatron felt around him, those scorching, silky folds rippling and teasing, clenching hard on his spike and making him hiss in pleasure.

Megatron bucked and panted, groaning and growling, riding the drone's spike mercillesly and slamming his hips down again and again, teasing his nub furiously and feeling another overload build. He gasped and bucked hard, tilting his hips just so before dropping down hard enough to dent the weaker plating of the hapless drone beneath, skewering himself with the drone's spike and gasping, clawing, groaning through gritted dentae as his valve spiralled down fiercely.

The drone below let out a staticky cry and Megatron roared as he overloaded yet again, valve walls clamping down, milking the drone's chord and pulsing in pleasure. His spike spurted release and the warrior writhed and ground down continuously, dragging every ounce of pleasure from his overload as he was filled again, hot fluids spattering against his inner lining and making him keen in delight. It was over all too quickly, overload fading, only the dull need remaining. He looked to the first drone, optics hungry, fanged dentals bared.

The startled vehicon wondered why he hadn't fled when he had the chance. Before he knew it, Megatron was on him, grinding down against his codpiece, demanding, insistent, animalistic in his need. The vehicon prayed to Primus that he could get it up again, terrified of what woudl happen if he couldn't satisfy this rampant beast that had replaced his master.

 

 

. . . . . . . .

 

Three more sets of drones came and never returned before anyone went to investigate. Knockout had ignored the missing drones, all too aware of what was probably happening behind closed doors. At least this way, however, Megatron was kept busy and fuelled. It was a tidy way of solving the current problem. Perhaps he'd finally manage to sate himself. The physical exam he'd put Megatron through had not shown any signs of unusual activity. This appeared to be a standard heat cycle like any other. Knockout had his doubts of course but as far as the tests showed, Megatron was in the clear. The racer brushed off any lingering concerns, deciding to go racing rather than stick around.

With Megatron on communications lockdown, it took a substantial length of time before word of the missing drones finally reached a mech who cared, namely, Soundwave. Any other mech would have brushed it off as inconsequential but Soundwave, always watching, always monitoring, saw the change in routine patrols and went to investigate. He stood by the door to Megatron's quarters, weighing up the wisdom of disturbing his lord for some time before finally deciding, opening the door and stepping inside. The sight he was greeted with was enough to stall his spark.

Soundwave stepped in to the warlord's room to be greeted with the sight of...well... the only word that adequately described it was an Earth word. An 'orgy.' That's what he'd call it. Megatorn was on his back, two vehicons vying for control of his valve, each eagerly pressing in. One drone was crouched before Megatron's helm, spike buried in the warlord's intake while the others stood and watched, some pleasuring themselves, some simply observing. The more bold and brazen of them had shuffled close enough to reach for the warlord's servos, guiding Megatron to pump their slim spikes and arching in pleasure at the touch.

If Soundwave hadn't been so concerned for his lord, he probably would have joined them. The scene was... undeniably arousing to behold. 

Soundwave strode into the room, synthesised voice calling for all those present to leave immediately. Megatron groaned then whimpered at the sudden empty feeling in his valve and intake when his partners abruptly pulled out, vanished. The warlord fell to the berth and writhed about, panting hard, groaning in frustration as he fingered himself.

The telepath strode forwards, moving to gather up his master with the intention of dragging Megatorn to the washracks. Despite his charge, Megatorn was weak, exhausted. He protested meekly, pawing at Soundwave, begging in a fashion that didn't suit the powerful mech.

"S-Soundwave... it won't... won't stop... make it-ngghh... stoooop-" The warlord looked up at his commander through glassy, wide optics, still desperately pumping his servo, chasing another overload with a singleminded desperation.

"Lord Megatron: unwell. Wishes Soundwave to assist?" Soundwave would never want to take advantage of his lord. He'd helped Megatron before but... he wanted to be sure that this was what the warbird wanted. 

"Mhhh.... yes... yessss. Please Soundwave..." 

At the warlord's bidding, thick, writhing tentacles came to life, extending from the telepath's frame, coiling about Megatron and wrapping him in an affectionate embrace before moving down, down towards his throbbing array. 

Soundwave guided one tentacle to nudge Megatron's servo aside, clamping down over the warlord's nub and pulsing fiercely, prehensile tendrils reaching out and wrapping around the tender little node, rubbing, writhing, grinding against it. Megatron keened and jolted upright on the berth, gasping and groaning begging. "

"Nghh! Sound-Soundwave- haaa.. please! Pleasahhhh!" Before he knew it a second tentacle had wriggled between Megatron's thighs, nudging at his soaked, swollen valve lips before thrusting inside, writhing, wriggling, forcing its way in deeply. 

Megatron gasped and howled in pleasure, throwing his helm back, collapsing to the berth and breathlessly looking up at his loyal soldier, his trusted commander, pleading in his optics. He wanted, needed more. So much more.

Soundwave complied, a second tentacle moving the join the first, nudging against Megatron's blushing valve lips and slowly wriggling inside, pressing in as the first tentacle drew out. All at one the combined lengths thrust forward, filling Megatron and stretching him wide, coiling around each other and thrusting deeply, firmly, scraping the warrior's valve and pounding his ceiling node, vigorously fragging the soaked entrance.

"Ufff! Uhhh! Sound-Soundwave!" All Megatron could do was cry out in pleasure, in praise for his TIC, oral lubricants dribbling from his lips, optics rolling back as the mingled fluids, passage eased considerably for the tentacled lengths as they rippled through the sticky mess the drones had left within their leader.

Soundwave wondered how many had had their way with Lord Megatron, or, more than likely, had been taken by him. Megatron was ravenous, demanding and insatiable. He had no doubt that many of the drones had been pinned down and used, milked for all they were worth. Mingled lubricants and cum dripped freely from the warlord's aroused slit, his thighs soaked in lubricants, his chin and jaw spattered with dried cum. How many had been given the privilege of overloading in their master's fanged maw? Getting sucked off by the powerful warrior in his moment of weakness? Of need? The telepath felt a surge of anger at that thought, tentacles pulsing and thrusting with a renewed force as his anger bled out, coated his actions in a cruel and fierce sheen.

Soundwave wanted to claim his master, mark him as his after so many nameless, worthless drones had left their pitiful mark. He wasn't sure what had come over him. Maybe Megatron's heat was somehow transmitting itself to him? He didn't know. Didn't care. All he cared about was taking what he wanted right now, inching forwards until he stood before Megatron, dragging the warrior to the berth's edge and sliding his panels back, freeing the pulsing, aching member beneath.

The telepath was soaked in the scent of pleasure, his sensors addled, his processor clouded. Megatron cried out below him as his tentacles roughly fragged that drenched, sloppy opening, stained with the fluids of so many worthless sparks. Soundwave would change that... he would coat the warrior's tender valve walls in the fluids of someone worthy. He palmed his spike eagerly, deciding to wait a little before staking his claim. Two more tentacles weaved and writhed through the air, coming to rest on Megatron's blushing valve lips, prodding and stroking at the stretched, flushed protomesh. Tiny tendrils wriggled free from the lengths, teasing the warrior's folds, making Megatron cry out in mingled need and pleasure.

Soundwave vented heavily at the sight, recording every second of this gratifying scene, slowly nudging the tip of the third tentacle forward, pressing against Megatron's slick folds, more and more ugently until the writhing length finally popped inside that stretched and tender opening, surging forward and tunneling in to the warrior's heat. Megatron let out a yelp then a pleasured mewl, his hips shivering, shaking, his frame glistening in condensation.

Now for the fourth... Soundwave was sure his master could take one more... Each tentacle currently buried in the warlord writhed and pulsed, forcing its way in deeply, filling Megatron and forcing him through another overload. Megatron cried out in spark shattering bliss and his valve walls clamped down tight, squeezing the tentacles hard. Soundwave drew them back, the fourth firm length nudging, squeezing itself in to the warrior's overheated valve and slamming forward, skewering the warlord and slamming agianst the depths of his valve, forcing him to constrict once again as a second overload tore through him before the first had even eased.

Megatron groaned and panted, begging, pleading unintelligibly, moaning Soundwave's designation. Four tentacles now writhed within him, moving at a separate beat, each thrusting forward independently, leaving Megatron helpless to predict any pattern. He hissed and cried out, yelped and mewled delightfully and Soundwave found himself overcome with need. 

Drawng the thick cables back slowly, he wriggled the lengths apart as best he could, four tentacles spreading Megatron open for him, parting the warrior's gaping, stretched valve so that a tiny opening was seen, dribbling fluids, clenching and flexing needily. 

"Master... do you want this?" He spoke in the low, purring register of the second in command, Starscream's intoxicating, lilting tone drifting out in sweet offering. Soundwave wasn't sure if it was a kindness or a cruelty to ask his lord his desire but as the tip of his spike nudged Megatron's heated entrance, he leaned over the mech and watched, waited.

Megatron shivered and groaned, panting hard, overheating and writhing. "Nhh...yes! YES! YES!"

The moment the word left his master's lips, Soundwave thrust his hips forward, impaling that flexing little opening, feeling his tentacles squeeze around his spike and Megatron's sweet, dripping heat envelop him. He thrust madly, in deep, rich desire, thrusting his tentacles alongside his spike. Four thick, pulsing lengths stretched Megatron obscenely wide, the warrior crying out in hlpeless pleasure, valve rippling and surging contantly.

Soundwave couldn't tell where one overload let off and the next began. Megatron seemed to be lost in a world of pleasure, glossa lolling, optics whiting out and vocaliser choking out pitiful sobs in between hitching, staticky cries of bliss. The telepath slammed his hips forward time and again, drinking in the sensation of Megatron, needy and eager for him, desperate, wanton, crying out his name.

He was helpless to hold back, tentacles writhing, thrusting in and out ruthlessly in time with the telepath's spike now, twinging around it to create an enormous ribbed shaft that made Megatron sob and keen in pleasure, tears dripping from his optics, cries of bliss escaping his maw as he teetered on the edge of consciousness.

Soundwave drew back slowly, flexing and pulsing the tentacles wrapped around his chord, delighted to watch Megatron whimper and tense below him, mewling like a newspark, lost to heady pleasure. Then the telepath surged forward, hammering into his leader with all the aggression, all the ferocity he could muster, pounding that stretched, voracious opening until Megatron screamed and tensed, his frame shaking, his valve clamping down his optics offlining. His vocaliser was the next to go, shorting out, spitting static until Megatron screamed wordlessly, hips writhing, spike spattering fluids as a full framed overload claimed him. 

Soundwave almost snarled aloud, intensely aroused by the sight of his lord so undone, pounding that sweet opening with the intent to mark, to claim. He felt his own overload swelling, his chord pulsing and twitching before finally, spraying hot fluids into the writhing mass of mesh and cables that was Megatron's battered opening. The warlord whimpered and writhed beneath him, tensing up, shaking fiercely before falling abruptly offline.

Feeling his release spill slowly forth, Soundwave rocked his hips slowly, gently, tentacles pulsing and writhing as a single mass, smearing the fluids around, coating Megatron with his claim. He drew back when he'd empited himself completely,satiated, satisfied for both himself and his master. Megatron had been fragged so hard he'd fallen offline and Soundwave had enjoyed himself to lengths he'd not felt in countless orns.

Soundwave carefully pulled free, his leaking spike easing from Megatron's stretched and still twitching entrance. Then came the tentacles, one by one slipping free, not before writhing against the warlord's inner heat, tenderly pulsing against the warrior before they were extracted with a wet, obscene noise.

The telepath looked down to his lord, wondering what to do about the mess once he'd freed himself entirely. For now he simply drew a few cloths from subspace and set to work cleaning off the worst of the fluids clinging to Megatron's plating, making sure to wipe his spike clean before tucking it back into its housing. Megatron's valve would need more thorough attentions, Soundwave forced to leave that as it was for now. He grasped Megatron's heavy pedes, lifting the splayed and unconscious warrior onto the berth properly and setting him in a better position for recharge. Suddenly exhausted himself, the telepath too the chance to climb atop the sullied berth, settling down for a short recharge with his lord. He didn't want to leave Megatron's side for now and the warrior needed rest. The was a logical solution. 

Soundwave laid down beside his master, watching Megatron curiously as the powerful mech cycled cooling intakes. He felt the heat ease and the warrior's field settle, allowing himself a little surge of pride for having satisfied his master. With that thought in mind, Soundwave shuttered his optics and settled down for a short rest.


End file.
